Crystal Vengeance
by GraceRichie
Summary: Thanks to Jareth, Cyric is king of the Easternlands, Jeaule at his side, but Damien will stop at nothing to take it away, even working with Kindraa.  War, deception, love & greed mix with new friends & enemies in this sequel to New Crystals, Old Dreams.
1. Marriage and a Proposal

**Disclaimer:**** This is a SEQUEL to my story New Crystals, Old Dreams. If you haven't read that story, I suggest you do so before reading this one, though I DO have kind of a prologue for those who don't want to. LOL **

**I do not own rights to anything you recognize from the Labyrinth movie and/or the book. Everything else, including OC's and the new realms of the Underground ARE mine and I would like them treated as such. I do not make any money from this story, though apparently, I might make money on a few of my personal dress designs! LOL **

**I do draw fanart for this story and NCOD, if you want to check them out go to my deviantart page. My homepage link on my FF main page will send you there.**

**It** hasn't been too long since last we left our friends in the Underground. Sarah and Jareth are happily married and the Goblin Kingdom thrives with the instatement of its new Queen. A mere two weeks have passed since the wedding of Jareth and Sarah and the Underground is preparing itself for yet another glorious day of celebration.

Today is the day of Cyric and Jeaule's wedding, but not only will they be wed this day…there will also be a coronation for them both. Former Queen Medb, within the rocky prison of her statue, will watch from afar as her once malevolent kingdom passes into the hands of the kind and caring couple.

The only royalty not in attendance this day is Damien, Cyric's lifelong enemy. Not satisfied with having stolen parts of Cyric's childhood lands now that the tormentor of his youth has an entire kingdom to run, and one larger than Damien's own to boot, he will stop at nothing to take it all away.

**Dizziness** stole over Jeaule, sending a wave of heat through her core that made her wish for a fan, as she waited behind the grand oak doors. Beyond those doors was her future, one she would never have dreamt for herself, but one that was rapidly approaching never the less. Cyric was on the other side of that door, she thought with a bracing smile. He would no doubt look handsome, it was hard for him not to and that wasn't even a biased opinion. Cries of the forlorn women had been heard near and far when he'd announced his marriage to Jeaule.

But, Jeaule thought with another flip of her nervous stomach, there were also hundreds of people on the other side of those dark wooden doors. People that were there to judge and cheer alike, for this was not only to be her wedding day, but hers and Cyric's coronations as well. Their eyes, hundreds of speculative, judgmental eyes, would dissect her, trying to find weakness in her, trying to find a reason to dislike instantly.

"Oh…" she sighed as her thoughts turned her already unstable legs to noodles beneath her.

"Oh no you don't," Sarah said with a knowing smile as she got a grip on Jeaule's arm. "Up you get." Jeaule nearly slumped against her friend, almost wanting the comforting silence and solitude of the healers ward at the moment. "No you don't, I won't be able to support much more of you here." Jeaule righted herself, feeling foolish.

"I can't help it," she sighed, wanting to lean back against a wall, but fearing for the fragile and easily stained white material of her dress. "All those people." She gestured weakly to the door before them, her breath constricting in her lungs. Sarah conjured up a small hand fan and began waving it gently before Jeaule's flushed face. The cool breeze was instantly helpful, the sheen of sweat that threatened was held at bay.

"I know that you're scared of them and that I didn't have to deal with something on quite this level of intensity," Sarah said soothingly, calming her friend with the restful tone of her voice. "But I can tell you that once those doors open and you see Cyric…everything is going to be okay." Jeaule looked up at her speculatively.

"Really?" Her friend smiled and placed the bouquet back in her hands.

"I promise." Jeaule imagined it, the great oak doors parting and seeing Cyric at the end of the red carpeted walkway. She could almost feel the stress leaving her body…until she looked to the side and saw the massive crowd gathered. "Jeaule…stop it." Sarah's voice cut through the imaginings as Sarah beat the fan harder.

"Gods…I can't even imagine it going well." Her friend laughed gaily as the fan disappeared. Sarah's hands were on her shoulders, tight and centering.

"Make me a promise." That caught Jeaule off guard, taking her thoughts from her fears of the day, she nodded. "When those doors open, you train your eyes on Cyric and no one else." It sounded like a lovely plan…

"But-" Sarah shook her head and raised a finger in warning to stop her.

"No buts…you train your eyes on him and so help me Jeaule…don't turn your head." With a heavy sigh, she nodded, not wanting to argue how difficult that would prove to be. "Besides, if anyone WERE to form an opinion of you today, I can't see as they'd find a fault. You look beautiful, your dress is flawless…but that was a given."

Jeaule grinned, of course it was, and of course it was thanks to Sarah. When her friend had heard that they weren't having a traditional handfasting because Cyric wanted the coronation on the same day as he would be joined with her, Sarah had nearly squealed with delight. She'd begged Jeaule to let her design a dress that would hold to the Undergrounds traditions and yet be a bit untraditional. Jeaule had fretted over that decision since it was also to be a coronation, but Sarah had persisted, saying that it would be a white dress…coronation standard.

And so the dress that adorned her was created. The dress was fitted until her upper thigh, where the material flowed down into a voluptuous skirt with tiny embroidered Celtic love and strength knots at the hem. The actual dress scooped down below her breasts, cupping them and it was the ruched under-shirt that ruffled from beneath it that covered her. But the part of the dress that had captured Jeaule and her heart was the mind numbingly intricate embroidery of gentle vines covered with dozens of little red flowers that started from where the dress hugged her breasts and twisted down to her thighs.

"Hmm," Sarah's mockingly inquisitive noise brought a smirk to Jeaule's lips, she knew what her friend was about to say. "I guess the only thing they might find at fault is your hair." Sarah had bothered her all week about her decision to wear her hair up, whining that her hair was simply too beautiful to hide up with that comb. But Jeaule had stuck by her decision, no one knew what that comb meant to her.

_Mother still wasn't home. Her duties at the annual royal Christmas breakfast had no doubt run late, most likely due to a comment of some sort by the prince that had turned into a shouting match with his father. It was always like that, but their mother was personal maid to the Queen and that job came with its perks…like their home in the Goblin City, just outside of the castle…but it also had its drawbacks._

_The two girls, the color of night and day, sitting at their snow cased window just hoping for a sign of their mother, knew all about drawbacks. While both girls were anxious for their mother to come home, their reasons were as different as their personalities. _

_Jeaule, pale sunlight for hair, had never, in all her young life, held her mother's job against her. Sure it meant that she and her sister had to wait for their mother to come home to get their presents, but the dedication their mother showed to their happiness erased any anger Jeaule might have felt. It was her mother and she did the best she could, there was nothing more she could ask of her._

_Erina, on the other hand, had plenty she could ask and did. She'd been fuming at the window for an hour now, fogging the glass then angrily wiping it clear again, as if the fog were to blame for her mother not being there. Her face was set in angry lines, clearly irritated that their mother wasn't home yet. Erina had never liked sharing their mother with the royal family, swearing on more than one occasion that she would marry the prince so that their mother would never be able to ignore her again. It didn't matter how many times Jeaule told her sister that he would marry a princess, not a servant's daughter…Erina didn't listen. _

_A dark figure moving from the castle doors had Jeaule's heart racing with joy. There mother was done at last. As their mother cleared the castles archway, Erina spotted the two brightly wrapped presents in her arms, not caring for the bright and lovely smile, nor waving back as their mother shook a happy hand towards them._

"_Hello girls!" She called as she walked through the door, setting the packages down to shake the snow from her hair. Jeaule immediately made her way towards her mother's now outstretched arms, but was shoved violently aside as Erina passed her._

"_Why did you take so long!?" Erina shouted wickedly at their mother, wiping the beautiful smile from her face. She seemed not to have words for the fiery raven haired daughter visually fuming before her. _

"_It doesn't matter!" Jeaule said forcefully, coming to their mother's defense. "She's HERE now isn't she?" Their mother seemed bolstered by this as Jeaule ran into her arms, ignoring Erina's glare. Their mother took this chance to give the girls their presents._

"_I do hope you like them," she chirped with a happy smile as Erina tore greedily at the paper, sending it flying. Jeaule took a more casual approach, as she always did. She liked to savor this moment, knowing it would be the only present she would get…except perhaps a treat from the Queen tomorrow. _

"_What is THIS?" Erina's disdainful sneer caused Jeaule to pause so she could see what Erina had received from their mother. It was a pretty dress, dark blue with delicate white floral embroidery. It would look beautiful against her pale skin and would cause her sapphire eyes to all but glow, but she seemed displeased. Jeaule couldn't imagine why._

"_It's a dress my dear, I had it made especially for you." Their mother almost stammered, not wanting to upset her young daughter. Erina dropped the dress back into the box and folded her arms across her chest with a huff._

"_I didn't ask for a dress." Jeaule ignored her sister's tantrum, she did this every year. When her fingers lifted the lid from her box, she was dumbfounded. The delicate silver hair comb was set with beautiful amber gems. She knew her mother had picked them herself, for they were the exact shade of Jeaule's eyes. "I want that!" Jeaule clutched the comb to her chest at her sister's words, surely their mother wouldn't…_

"_No Erina, that belongs to Jeaule." Their mother said sternly. Jeaule sighed, relieved, as her mother twisted her platinum locks up and slipped the comb into her hair. Her mother never let Erina get away with things like that and Jeaule was thankful for it. If she did…Jeaule wouldn't have a belonging left to her. _

But, Jeaule thought, forcing back the tears that threatened at the memory. That had been their last Christmas with their mother. She'd died only five months later during Medb's attempted attack on the Goblin Kingdom. Queen Maesia had taken them in, had shown them kindness, but neither had the control nor the understanding of Erina that their mother had.

Not two days after they'd been taken in by Maesia, Jeaule and Erina had gotten into a fight over the last thing their mother had ever given to Jeaule…the little hair comb. Out of spite, Erina had gone to the Queen and told her that Jeaule had stolen it from her. Maesia didn't know any better and had ordered Jeaule to give the comb to Erina, telling her never to steal. The look on her sister's face had been placidly triumphant as she gripped the comb in her greedy little hand. That had been the moment Jeaule had promised never to argue with her sister again.

And for a long time…she hadn't.

Her sister had never worn the comb, she'd merely not wanted Jeaule to have it. Jeaule found it in the bottom of Erina's jewelry case, untouched all those years.

"Jeaule…!" Sarah's warning gave her just the time she needed to prepare herself, pulling her bouquet to her waist and straightening her back proudly, before the brilliant late morning sun broke over her face. She hadn't realized how cool the inside of the castle had been till the rays of sunlight danced over her skin, warming her with their caress. Her eyes adjusted to the radiant brightness of the sun and there he stood.

It was as Sarah said, once her eyes fell on Cyric, there was nothing else. The cheers from the crowd seemed to melt into nothingness, they weren't as important as those crystal blue eyes that were locked to her. Her heart fluttered as his smile quirked.

He looked so dashing , she thought as the space between them mercifully shortened. He was dressed in a loose fit, dazzlingly white top with red embroidery that she could tell was as intricate as the detail of her dress. It set off the unnatural tan of his skin, making him look like a dark rogue. It did nothing to diminish his beauty…for there was no other word for him at the moment.

Not for Jeaule.

His wavy chocolate locks had been pulled back loosely with a red ribbon, leaving stray strands to frame his face. With peripherals, she could tell that he wore black leather pants, but no details were drawn about them for her eyes were glued to his. When she reached him, her heart gave another nervous flutter before his hand wrapped around hers.

Nothing could stop them now that they were one.

'**There** has got to be a way to stop them!' Damien's mind insisted petulantly as he tried to think of a way to get Cyric out of the throne to the Eastern Realms. He simply couldn't stomach the thought of his lifelong rival having a crown and even Damien could admit that was saying something. No, he wouldn't share that right with the pompous, feather haired, crystal eyed playboy of his youth. Why had the gods done this to him? Was there no end to their cruelty?

All he'd ever wanted was to be better than everyone else, that hadn't been too difficult a request, had it? No, of course not, Damien thought to himself as he fluffed up the violently lavender ruffles at his neck. His outfit today was one of the most boring in his repertoire, well, it was to him anyways.

It was an annoyingly monochromatic black suit that he'd at least given a little spice to by covering it with tiny shimmering crystal fragments. The jacket was so snug he couldn't move his arms overmuch without tearing something and the pants stretched so tightly over his massive bottom that they were all but bursting at the seams…a perfect fit.

He'd meant to at least pretend sincerity this day, the worst in his life so far; it even topped the horrific dinner the night before and that had been an abysmal assault on his taste buds. His cook must have something against him, some hidden animosity, to produce something as offensive as that meal. His mind drifted back from his normal dip into self-pity and back to the lavender ruffles protruding from his jacket.

He'd designed them himself, just as he designed his whole wardrobe. The extravagant ruffles were lined with the same crystal fragments that covered his suit and if he did say so…which he did…he looked rather dashing. His personal clothing motto was, after all, 'the more extravagant, the more powerful and rich you look.' Well, he thought with a shrug, no one said it was the greatest motto, but it worked…didn't it?

What Damien would never accept was the fact that everyone around him always thought he looked like a walrus stuffed into stage costumes that would make Liberace blush. Damien didn't hear the snickers at his parties, or perhaps he merely ignored them. No one knew how the mind of their flamboyantly dressed monarch worked though few would have argued with the truth of the matter. The king was a pretentious brat who wanted everything to go his way all the time, that was common knowledge, but few would have believed the depths to which he would sink. But sooner or later, everyone's true colors are revealed to the world and this was Damien's time to either dazzle or repulse the whole of the Underground with his.

With a sudden flash of what Damien deemed brilliance, he had his plan. "Kindraa." She had helped Medb…hadn't she? It didn't slip his mind that Medb had fallen short on that occasion though. "Well…I have a stronger Kingdom than she ever did…and I'm far smarter." A chubby finger came to his lips and he anxiously nipped on the fingernail; going to Kindraa would mean going to war for surely there was no other option.

Did he want to go to war to remove the crown from Cyric's head? His meaty fist balled and slammed on the table before him with surprising force. Of COURSE he would. War meant little to him, after all, he wasn't the one fighting. What were the lives of soldiers compared to his? With a throaty chuckle he stood, preparing to use the magic he rarely took time to notice.

He thought of the gaping entrance to Kindraa's caverns; many knew of them, but few had the gall to actually visit the place that the gods had condemned. But, he thought, shutting his eyes tightly as the bothersome sensation of his own magic rippled over his skin, she was his best hope. As the irksome feeling of spiders over his skin, for that's what he thought of his magic, faded…he let his eyes creep open.

Well, he praised himself, he'd made it. The overpowering smell of sulfur assaulted his nose as he stepped forward. He brought a hand up to pinch his piggy little nose shut and narrowed his already girth squinted eyes in irritation. Couldn't she make this place a bit more presentable, he reflected as he walked into the mouth of the cave. Get rid of that smell, add some nice low lighting and perhaps even velvet here and….

He didn't get to finish his thought; a belch of soot suddenly issued from further in the cave, covering him head to toe with its gritty darkness. He stamped a huffy foot, wiping desperately at his clothing before giving up, realizing this merely gave him an excuse to throw the lackluster garment out.

"Are you coming to see me or are you planning on standing there looking like a charred swine all day?" The silk covered impiety of the voice sent chills through his bones and nearly made him dash out of the cavern all together. "No, no…we'll have none of that," the disembodied voice crooned.

"This was a bad idea," his voice shook as his teeth chattered, his feet starting to inch backwards. Damien shrieked, high-pitched and terrified, as a seat materialized beneath him. He gripped at the arms of the chair, his heavily hooded eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to see his tormentor, but she was no where to be seen.

"Oh…you wish to see me do you?" The cavern erupted in a torrent of fire and magma, the sulfur stench, more powerful than ever, causing him to gag. The shadows gathered and formed themselves into a devilishly good-looking woman whose red eyes were a vibrant match to the fire around her. Though, he pondered with a glimmer of his normal arrogance, she would look better in any other lighting. This harsh, low, red lighting wouldn't flatter anyone. "You ARE amusing you know?"

His pinched face twisted in confusion, "You know what I'm thinking?" Her calculatedly perfect, full lips quirked up into a smirk as she neared him.

"I know all," she purred, one overly long, slender finger trailing down the side of his face as she sat on the arm of his chair. Damien could only hope that those frighteningly sharp, pointed fingernails wouldn't cut his face. "I am, after all, a Chaos demon of prophecy." With a careless wave of her hand a table with a large viewing orb appeared before Damien. He leaned forward, suddenly entranced by what he saw within, his discomfort with Kindraa momentarily forgotten.

Within the crystal's shimmering confines, a brilliant scene played out. Damien saw himself standing triumphantly over Cyric's broken body, laughing merrily. Two of his guards held Cyric's screaming wife, Jeaule in their arms. The fury and anguish mixed beautifully on her face as she tried desperately to free herself. Damien lifted a fleshy hand, running a finger along the crystal over her face.

He'd wanted her since the night her sister had thrown a fit at his party. It had been another cruelty of the gods that she'd fallen in love with the handsome tormentor of his youth. Crystal Damien must have ordered his guards to take her to his tent for they took her off, kicking and screaming harder than ever. The image within the crystal faltered, turning to hazy smoke that dissolved to nothingness, leaving the crystal clear and blank.

"What happened!?" Damien demanded, turning to where Kindraa had been a moment before. His eyes were met with nothing, she'd gone. He frantically searched the cavern for her, not wanting to lose his chance now that he'd seen what could happen.

Smoky shadows curled around his neck and materialized into shockingly warm arms, "Don't worry my self-serving king…I would not leave you now that I've decided to help you."

"Why?" Damien asked, suddenly suspicious. Kindraa laughed behind him, but it wasn't at all pleasant sounding. It made every hair on his body stand on end.

"Because you amuse me." There was something in her voice that echoed a deeper reasoning behind helping him, but he dared not to venture there. The last thing he wanted to do was stop her aid. Switching his train of thought before Kindraa could sense it, he trained his mind of the image of Jeaule's beautiful, tear stained face.

"You can really kill him and make her mine…?" His voice was harried and squeakily fervent, even to his own ears. Kindraa sauntered around his chair, curling up next to a thermal vent across the room that was so hot it made the room around it shimmer with heat waves.

"I do nothing but tell you what could be and set you on the path to achieving it, what you do with that knowledge and how it comes about is up to you." The image of her body contorted and flickered in the heat waves.

"Then what will you tell me?" Even with the distortion, Damien could see her wicked smile.

"I tell you to go home." His jaw dropped as the anger rippled through him.

"But…but," he sputtered. "You told me you were going to help!" Kindraa's wavering form sat up, folding her legs beneath her, almost seeming to melt into the rock she was sitting on.

"I did and I am." Damien started to argue again, but her hand raised to silence him. "Go home…I am sending someone of my OWN to the Easternlands to act as a spy of sorts."

Irritation coiled in his belly, "Why can't I meet the person now? I want to tell them what to do." Kindraa's red eyes flashed with his impertinence.

"You will tell no one but your armies what to do." Her voice was level, but the tips of her hair and fingers had lit on fire and even Damien knew that meant to shut up. "You came to me for help and help I gave you, but don't try me petulant king…you do not frighten me." His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth so he merely nodded hastily and rose to leave. "You will know them when it's time," Damien heard her voice as he left the cave as fast as he could. "And not before!" He felt a blast of heat on his bottom as he teleported himself out of there and back to the lavish comfort of his own room.

After he'd gathered his breath he cursed the demon, no one treated him like that. He'd never admit that he would never have cursed her to her face, but in the sumptuous solitude of his own room, he had no fear.

But he did smell something burning…what was…? He remembered the blast of heat with a frantic skip of his heart and rushed to his mirror room. The room was round, every inch of wall covered with mirrors. He built it to inspect every inch of his clothing designs and now it showed the rear of his pants was completely burnt off and his heart covered underpants showed clear as day.

Curse that demon.

**(A/N: Hope you all liked the first chapter of Crystal Vengeance. I am terribly sorry that it was posted a week later than I had anticipated. I lost use of my computer for almost a week and it had the half written chapter on it. Boo for stupid computers. But here it is now, my computer is fixed and I hope that you all enjoy and review your hearts out! **

**Want to acknowledge my nod to Kaline Reine's contest entry. While I'd already planned flashbacks for Jeaule in this story, I did have some inspiration from her in the form of a sentence you probably recognized if you read her entry. And a nod to Miru88 for the 'wearing her hair up at the wedding' idea and the clip, though I changed it to a hair comb. Again, though I had planned something similar…I do wish to give a nod to both of them for that.**

**BIG thanks to all who read and reviewed the last chapter of NCOD:**

**angelbabe2000, BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Fun-SizedWitch, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, maskedpainter, miru88, notwritten, phantome101, Princess1980, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**You guys are awesome!)**


	2. A Dark Past

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the movie or the book, nor do I make a monetary profit from writing this story. All OC's in this story…the majority of the characters…ARE mine though.**

**Determined** chirping woke Jeaule the next morning and left her, as always, in awe of nature's internal clock, but annoyed with it's insistence that the damn thing be set to 'sunrise'. This was one morning she would have enjoyed the chance to sleep in a bit. It wasn't as if she's been allowed much sleep the night before.

With a pleased grin and a tiny groan from the shock of how sore she was, Jeaule sank back into the warmth of her husband's chest. Her cheeks heated pleasantly as her mind traveled back to the previous night. She'd known it would be like that, hadn't she? Or had she merely only hoped and gotten lucky? Cyric shifted in his sleep behind her, his arm draping over her waist to pull her closer. Jeaule wouldn't have been able to tell you why such a simple gesture…even unconsciously done…had moved her so, but the emotion had caught in her chest never-the-less.

In an attempt to keep the pleasant pressure in her chest from turning to soppy tears, Jeaule used her magic to slide the curtains from the long, lazy arch of window. The window she gazed from now was not the wide, harshly rectangular one in Medb's old room that she'd spent hours staring out of while waiting for the vile woman. No, she'd insisted that they find another room to use as their own.

Now they were located almost on the far western side of castle. They'd both wanted that room for a variety of reasons. One, the morning sun wouldn't interrupt their sleep. Two, the setting sun would make for wonderfully romantic dinners on the balcony. And three, they overlooked the gardens here instead of the arenas. Medb may have enjoyed the harsh view, but neither of them wanted to see those arenas every night.

The gardens, she knew though she couldn't see them at the moment from her position on the bed, were in dismal shape, but that would soon change. Medb had no love for the beauty and delicacy of the gardens, but Jeaule would see them back to their former glory if it took her all year. Weeds abounded, choking the weaker roots of some would-be flowers. Hedges were overgrown and most were brittle and brown in their pathetic deaths.

There was however, one bush that seemed unaffected by the chaotic garden. The Labyrinthine rose bush wasn't in full bloom, but the Underground was changing its colors to fall and that was merely to be expected. Though, Jeaule had seen under the now-wilting flowers to the vibrantly green leaves and the sturdy limbs. That plant had lived through the negligence Medb had shown it. Was it attributed to mere hardiness or had the plant lived to spite Medb? To live and thrive in beauty while she did her best to kill the land? They would never know, but Jeaule liked to imagine the latter was true.

What she COULD see from the window though, was the rapidly changing leaves of the trees outside. Soon, Jeaule knew, the mountains around them would seem to be on fire from the Autumn leaves. A smile parted her lips as she thought of how her good friend Sarah had reacted to seeing that.

"_How the hell was it Autumn when I left the Aboveground and it's just NOW Autumn here?" Jeaule, Cyric and Jareth shared a conspiratorial laugh before Sarah pinned them all with her emerald gaze and sobered them._

"_We're behind, that's why." Cyric's simple, FAE answer, had irritated Sarah to a strangled groan that made Jeaule take pity on her._

"_We're a season behind the Aboveground." She'd told her friend. "It really is as simple as that. It's turning to Autumn now and in the Aboveground the first snow is falling." Sarah had sat there, a sadly whimsical smile on her face._

"_I'd be building a snowman with my baby brother then." Jareth had averted his eyes, guilt shimmering in his eyes. _

Jeaule knew there was nothing anyone could do for Sarah. Her brother would grow up without her, but at least she was able to see him from time to time. All Jeaule could hope was that the boy would never forget his sister, she didn't want to see what would happen to her friend if that should ever come about. Sarah had been so happy to have Toby there at their wedding a month ago.

She wasn't able to ponder on her friend's sadness any longer for her skin tingled and the small hairs on her arm stood up. Just a moment later, she felt Cyric's lips touch her shoulder and nearly melted into the bed.

"Morning, love."

"Morning…" he answered, his voice thick with sleep. She turned herself, in the confines of his arms, till she faced him. He was delightfully ruffled from the night before, his long, chocolate locks flew every which way and his piercing blue eyes were still heavy and tired. Those eyes were now narrowed and his brows pulled together in mock confusion.

"Is this what you look like every morning?" She pursed her lips together trying to conceal her smirk…but failing miserably. The move only seemed to egg him on. "I mean really…your hair's a mess and you have this imprint on your face," he ran his finger from her temple, down her cheek to her chin, "from where you slept on your pillow." His touch stirred her, but she knew, from his teasing, that he wanted a bit of resistance. "Seriously…I wish I'd have known this before. If I have to wake up to this every morning," his hand waved over her back and forth as he let his sentence trail off, an uncertain grimace on his face.

"You're a pest you know that?" Jeaule said before smacking him over the head with a pillow. He moved fast, pinning her body beneath his and diverting her next pillow attack with a kiss that seemed to spread through her like wine, loosening every muscle one by one with a languid headiness.

"If I'm LUCKY enough to wake up to this every morning," he whispered, kissing her lightly again as his clever fingers slid the nightgown from her body. "Then I will be the luckiest man in the Underground."

**Sarah** watched, irritation coiling tight in her belly, as Eireach kneeled before them, his copper locks, cut shorter from his time with Medb, not quite covering his eyes, and couldn't keep her eye from twitching…even a little. She still wasn't used to people bowing down to her and calling her 'Your Highness' and the like. It hadn't been save three weeks since she'd been given her crown…laugh and tease as they might, she simply wasn't used to it. Then add into the mix that it was Eireach who was bowing before her and it was no wonder her eye went renegade on her.

"Oh get up will you?" She knew she snapped, but hopefully she'd kept it as joking as it had been meant. When no sly looks came at her from either man, she continued. "You don't need to kneel to us ever and you know that," she admonished to the now smiling face of Eireach.

"Indeed," Jareth added surprisingly. "You weren't born to bow to any king, let alone me." Sarah tried desperately not to let her confusion…and irritation at being so…show, but it was in vain for the two men with her now had grown to know her far too well.

Eireach's smile faltered a little as he grew interested in the floor beneath him, "I'm sure his Highness-"

"Jareth." Her husband amended in a lightly demanding tone. Eireach brought his face back up, the smile back but not as bright as it had once been.

"I'm sure that **Jareth**," he teasingly over emphasized the name, "will tell you about it. Fear not, dear Sarah, the time of secrets will soon be over." Sarah couldn't help but wonder why that truth should have made Eireach sound both nervous and anxious at the same time. She wasn't given the time to ponder, for when she opened her mouth both men shook their heads slowly, telling her that secrets were to be learned later.

"For now," Jareth started, clapping his hands together merrily to clear the sudden heaviness in the air, "we are here to ask a great favor of you, Eireach." Sarah smiled, nodding, though she still wasn't entirely sure WHY they were asking Eireach to do this.

She knew that Jareth wasn't completely comfortable with Eireach being in the Goblin Kingdom and around Sarah very much. It was true that he'd changed enough to let her see him and such, but deep down, she knew that he didn't truly like Eireach around her. Sarah even agreed, to an extent, that it might be better for him to get out of the Goblin Kingdom and away from her.

It wasn't that she was scared he would fall in love with her again, for she knew that their relationship was truly a friendship now, but there were things that bothered her. The most important…and the biggest reason she'd accepted when Jareth suggested his new position, was that while Eireach no longer loved her, he did seem to compare others to her far too often.

Any time she tried to point him in the direction of a pretty, young Fae, Eireach always curled his lip and said something like, 'her hair isn't as long as yours' or 'why do no Fae seem to have green eyes like yours?' It wasn't a fanatical devotion to her that kept him stuck like this, but the lack of another woman to excite him. Perhaps, Sarah thought, if they sent him to the Easternlands, he would find someone to pique his interest and transcend her spot on the pedestal.

Jareth's voice pulled her from her reverie, "We want you to go to the Easternlands and help Cyric set up his new kingdom. No one else that we trust was raised for such a task and Cyric wasn't taught how to rule a whole kingdom at all." Eireach nodded slowly, but the idea seemed to insult and intrigue him all at once. "I know this isn't exactly what you've been trained for, but Cyric will need a friendly hand with this and I know you will be kind to him." Eireach took a deep breath before he nodded, smiling at last.

"I won't let you down." He vowed, bowing to Jareth before turning to Sarah. "Either of you." Eireach didn't seem in the mood to waste time…or perhaps he merely didn't want to discuss it further…for he thanked them once more and teleported away in a shower of coppery glitter.

Not a moment had passed before Sarah turned to Jareth, opened her mouth…and Jareth raised his hand to halt her. The sight of his hand before her face when she hadn't expected it startled her enough to jump back.

"What was that for?" Her husband's lips quirked as he lifted her hands to them in an attempt to placate her.

"Because I know exactly what you are going to ask." She arched a brow in graceful derision.

"Oh did you now?" Jareth nodded as he pulled himself from his chair, her hand still in his forcing her to do the same.

"I think I know where we shall go…I have explained such a great many things to you there after all." She knew they were going to the library as she felt the familiar pull on her torso, like a gentle embrace, telling her they were teleporting away. A quiet groan escaped her lips as she spied all the paperwork and books stacked on what was now her desk in the library. There was so much left to learn, she wouldn't be surprised if it took her two lifetimes to complete it all. She gratefully turned from the pile of work she knew would be waiting there for her tomorrow…perhaps even tonight if Jareth insisted on it.

Sarah really hoped that he didn't….

Jareth took his usual seat in the plush chair by the fireplace, one leg draped over the arm, while Sarah headed for the couch. The look in Jareth's eyes warned her that this might take a while and she wanted to be comfortable. As she stretched out on the couch, it was another look in Jareth's eyes that had her slightly worried. His eyes told her there was far more to this secret than the knowledge of why they sent Eireach to Cyric.

Her eyes traveled up to the map, trying to see what Jareth saw, but it was just a map as far as her eyes knew. From its perch over the ample hearth of the fireplace, the map looked nearly the same as the first time she'd seen it. The only changes were the boarder changes that had taken place when Jareth had named Cyric King of the Easternlands.

While the blue, white and yellow areas remained untouched, belonging to King Menoas, the Gods and Damien respectively, she remembered, the green and red areas were vastly different. Jareth's Kingdom now stretched from his small area of beachfront property all the way to the far eastern mountain ranges that used to belong to Medb. The red portion was no longer a dark, foreboding crimson, but a lighter, friendlier shade of red and it's borders had taken in Cyric's old homeland of Dendum.

Jareth's Kingdom was now, by far, the largest land based kingdom not owned by the gods…who still had far more land than any king could dream of. Cyric's kingdom was now a close second, as Jareth had only taken enough of Medb's lands to be named the largest. It was shocking every time she looked at the map and realized just how much of the Underground Cyric now had in his control.

That was only one of the many reasons Sarah had learned to explain Damien's dislike for Cyric. She was about to learn another…much more convoluted one.

Jareth sighed and tore his eyes from the map, "What I'm about to tell you has not been spoken of in over 150 years."

"Why?" She asked before he could go on. His lips pressed together and he took a deep breath…which didn't do well to soothe the nerves that had surfaced without her permission.

"Because it is a subject that was magically flagged."

"Flagged?" Again, Jareth sighed.

"This story is going to take a VERY long time if you keep interrupting me." She bit her lip as she saw the seriousness etched in his face. "I know what parts of this story you won't understand and I promise to explain them just…let me tell it."

"Sorry, go ahead. I'll shut up," she added, miming zipping her lips shut and tossing away the key.

"I very much doubt that," he chided. "But we'll see." She narrowed her eyes at him, but he only smirked at her, he always smirked. "Anyways, yes…the subject was flagged, which means that Damien's father put a…hmm…I guess you could call it a spell of sorts, on key parts of the subject so that if anyone were talking about it, he would know."

"What did he do to people that spoke of it?" Sarah asked before she could stop herself. "Damn it," she muttered, slapping a hand to her mouth. Jareth's laughter was rich…and annoying.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would!" She pursed her lips as he got the laughter out of his system and sobered up. "Okay, okay…he punished them, let's leave it at that." She didn't want to, but she wasn't about to say anything else. "Okay, now onward. So the subject was flagged and that spell is now enforced by his son." What could have been so terrible that Damien would STILL enforce something so stupid?

"I know what you're thinking and I'm about to tell you." He took another deep breath, Sarah could tell he wasn't looking forward to the conversation. "Well, to understand a story, you must know its roots, but this story's roots are deep and plentiful…so I'll summarize."

"Thanks," Sarah commented quietly as Jareth continued.

"The Kingdom's of the Underground…well," he paused, unfolding himself from the chair like a graceful cat, "these three anyways." He pointed to the Eastern and Westernlands and the Goblin Kingdom. "The three Kingdoms have been fought for, bled for and killed for." Sarah had known that the Underground didn't have a happy unicorns and rainbows past, but this was turning into something darker than she'd thought.

"The Goblin Kingdom hasn't fallen from my family's bloodline in over 2 millennia, but that's because we're strong and have a fierce and feared army. It's the reason that my kingdom is the only land kingdom that is named. The Easternlands, on the other hand, passed through 4 men's bloodlines through battle and blood before falling to Medb's rule nearly 700 years ago. The Westernlands…well, they have a MUCH bloodier past as they are…or were, more prized land than the East. I won't bore you with details right now, but needless to say, there is more blood on that land that any other." It was definitely a disturbing past, but it did make her feel quite secure knowing she'd married into a strong part of it.

"And now that brings me to why we started talking about this in the first place," Jareth sighed.

"The flagged secret." He nodded, clearly not looking forward to saying the words. "If this frightens you so, why are you telling me?"

"Because war is inevitable at this point." She nodded gravely, they had already talked at great length with Cyric and Jeaule about the prospect of war. It was sure that Damien would attack Cyric, it was just a matter of when anymore. "You see, Damien is only a second generation ruler."

"You mean Damien's father…?" Jareth nodded.

"He stole the lands from another, much better and kinder king." It all clicked in Sarah's head as Jareth said that and she sat up, stunned with the knowledge. Eireach had been raised to know the ways of ruling a kingdom.

"Eireach's father?" Again, Jareth's head nodded slowly as she sank back into the plush comfort of the chair, bewildered. That's why he'd seemed almost insulted by the offer. Oh how horrible, knowing that you should have been a king in your own right and being asked to help another as a mere consultant. But she also could understand why the glimmer of excitement had been in his eyes as well. He never would have had a chance to do something like this if Jareth hadn't offered it. What an odd position they had placed Eireach in.

"Well," Jareth said loudly, clapping his hands and causing her to jump, startled. "I might as well say one of the phrases and get this over with." She wanted to tell him no, that there was no point, but she knew now that this had to happen. Damien had to be shown that people weren't frightened of him and his stupid flag anymore. "King Tur was a wise and honest man." It took less than a second for the guardsman to appear and he looked less than excited about whom he faced.

"Y-you have broken the f-flag sir" the poor little guardsman stuttered. He looked young under his uniform and helmet, merely a child, even by Fae standards. His round, rich soil colored eyes darted from herself to Jareth, clearly nervous beyond measure, but bound in his duty…a frightening position for the young boy.

Jareth leaned forward, mirth in his eyes, "What is Damien going to do…spank me?"

**(A/N: And here's chapter two. Short for me, I know only 3480 words (had to be cool like Kerichi and have the exact number. LOL)! I don't think any of you will begrudge me the fact that it was Thanksgiving last week. I had to do ALL the cleaning, cooking and then cleaning after that last week and it was simply impossible last week to find a moment to sit…let alone sit and write. So, I hope that you all liked the chapter…short as it may have been. I promise other chapters will more than make up for the brevity of this one.**

**Readers who took the time to leave me a review and gave me reason to hope through Thanksgiving were: angelbabe2000, BattleofEvermore, darklady26 (though she wasn't able to leave a review…she read the chapter and told me what she thought LOL), DaydreamingPenguin, impteen16, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, maskedpainter, miru88, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears.**

**Thanks guys!)**


	3. A Perfect General

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Eireach** had taken into his duties as consultant to Cyric with a fervor he hadn't expected. When he'd been asked to take the position, he would have been a liar to say that something in the pits of his stomach had turned over in disgust and insult, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that he enjoying the task Jareth and Sarah had entrusted to him.

He'd been worried that Cyric wouldn't be happy with the arrangement, but when he'd shown up at the Easterlands castle, Cyric had been standing there waiting for him. Pure relief had broken over Cyric's face in a way that Eireach would never have dreamed of before. The only time he'd seen that look in those pale blue eyes was during his wedding, when those big oak doors had opened and Jeaule had walked out. Though, Eireach was rather relieved himself when the relief didn't turn to sappy smile.

Cyric had clapped him on the back and led him straight into the castle to a suite of rooms Eireach REALLY hadn't expected. He had to assume that they had been Medb's personal quarters from the way Cyric flinched, no matter how subtly, when he stepped in the room. Despite that marring fact, the suite was charming.

Wide, arching windows spanned the far wall and allowed a flood of light into the room. A heavy, dark oak four poster bed draped in rich, dark greens, that Eireach knew couldn't possibly have belonged to Medb, dominated the left side of the bedroom. A fireplace large enough to walk into gaped ominously across from the bed, but Eireach thought, with some décor to tone down its fierceness, it would be quite lovely to have a wide armchair before it to lounge in while reading a good book. There were three other rooms in the suite he'd been bestowed; a bathroom, an office and a den.

The bathroom was standard, though ample in space, no decoration cluttered its clean lines and earth toned coloring. Eireach assumed that, other than the bed, they'd left much of the décor up to him. The office had high vaulted ceilings and was empty save for a handsomely carved oak desk the same dark walnut color as the four poster that sat right before a large oval window. But the part of the room that captured him were the three walls opposite the desk that were lined with floor to ceiling shelves and a rolling ladder, just crying to be filled with all the books he could think of.

The den was a simplistic round room with even more shelves that he wasn't sure he'd need, but Cyric had told him he was more than welcome to change anything in the rooms to fit his purposes. And he had, he thought delightedly as he gazed around the rooms now.

In the following week nothing much had been added to the bedroom, save for two deep, plush armchairs before the fireplace and a small round table between them where he could toss the book when he was finished. The bathroom, he hadn't changed at all, for he loved the simplicity of it. The office was now cluttered with his plethora of literature, spilling even from the abundant shelving, but it was comfortable, familiar to him, so he left it that way.

It was that damned circular room that was giving him troubles. He had left it as it was for the simple reason that he couldn't think of anything to do with it. There was something about the room that didn't settle well with him, leaving him feeling cold and even a little repulsed. Eireach had learned that it was the room in which Medb had stored her potion collection and knew that it would take something special to get him to ever use that room. So for now, it sat, locked and unused without regret.

Without even a glance at the door, Eireach dressed himself for the days events, that would prove to be the most boring and yet most important since he'd arrived. Today was the day they would be interviewing maids for work around the castle. All of Medb's former employees had been fired, there was simply no way to trust them, and they were in need of new ones.

He would accompany Jeaule in this task for he was sure that it might overwhelm the new queen. It wasn't that he thought her incapable, nothing of the sort, she had worked as a maid most of her life and would know what to look for, but it was the interview process she might feel intimidated by. She would have to ask difficult questions and he knew what a kind heart she had. Eireach wanted to be there to tell the women to leave or to aid Jeaule should she need him in any way.

Cyric would be out in the arena scouting out talented men for the guard…what would eventually turn into their army when Damien chose to act the petty king and invade them. Eireach was more than certain that Cyric would be able to handle those proceedings without him and that was just another reason he would be with the Queen today, but first, he was due for his morning meeting with Cyric.

Walking into Cyric's ruthlessly organized office was a bit overwhelming. The man could organize, that was true, but Eireach liked controlled chaos. Cyric was behind his desk when Eireach arrived, a bright smile that always seemed to be on his face in the mornings and with a wife like his…it was no wonder.

"There's my favorite consultant," Cyric said cheerfully as Eireach sat down before him, a sarcastic grin on his face.

"I'm your only consultant." Cyric's powder blue eyes danced before the seriousness of their meeting settled in.

"We both know that a war is eminent." Eireach nodded, he hadn't wanted to speak of this just yet. With everything going on in Cyric's mind right now, the last thing he needed clouding it was war with the fool Damien. "You know that we both have a score to settle with him."

With a heavy sigh, Eireach nodded again, "Yes, we do Cyric, but we can't let that rule our hearts and minds." Cyric had seemed near determined to go to war with Damien. Eireach had known that the hatred flew between the two like the waters of the Jiren River, but the extent of the rivalry hadn't been more apparent than now.

"I won't let him take my lands again." There was a dangerous gleam in Cyric's eyes that warned Eireach not to argue with him. "He stole a whole kingdom from your family…how could you not wish him ill?" For some inexplicable reason, this made Eireach nearly chortle with laughter.

"Oh believe me, my friend," he said, gaining his breath back. "I wish him all the ill I can imagine, but we have to be focused about it." He needed to impress this upon the new king. "War isn't something that you can run into for personal reasons. You are a king now," he could see the words Cyric wanted to say, the denial he wanted to swim in. "You have more than yourself and a few thousand acres to care for." Defeat and understanding finally drove out the shadows from Cyric's icy stare.

"I know you're right, but it's so hard not to simply walk in there and punch him right in his pudgy, squinted face." Eireach shared his dislike, but as a consultant to Cyric, couldn't rightfully voice it.

"And that is why you must pick only the best today, for among them will be the general for your armies." Unrest and worry clouded his eyes. "It will be an army that will be used far before it should."

His meeting with Cyric swam through his head as he walked into the small meeting room decorated with feminine reds and whites. As he breathed in the subtle floral scented air, the muscles in his back loosened. He was instantly comforted by the serene presence of Jeaule, as almost everyone was, and crossed the room to kiss her cheek. She gave a tremendous sigh and laughed when she spotted him.

"I thought you were going to force me to do this alone," she smiled as a relieved hand covered her heart. He leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek before he took a seat in the floral print covered chair beside her, relaxation coming to him for the first time that morning.

"I would never have thought to do something like that," he tried to sound abashed, but knew the smirk on his face ruined his sarcasm.

"Sure you wouldn't," Jeaule said as she tried to hide a smile behind pursed lips; they were both terrible at this. "Just like you, most certainly, didn't leave Cyric without his speech yesterday just to teach him to prepare his own just in case." The good humor in her amber eyes was infectious as he took a sip of the tea she offered.

"Most certainly not." He grinned behind the cup, knowing that it had been his exact desire to leave Cyric fumbling for words. Not that he was wicked, but every king needed to learn that lesson.

A consultant wasn't there to do everything for you, merely to advise. From now on, Cyric was to write his own speeches, or merely prepare something to say…it mattered little to Eireach, himself. Sure, for a while, Eireach would look over or listen to what he planned to say, but eventually, Eireach would pull himself from most aspects of the court. He wasn't here to play king after all…Cyric was.

The time for smiles and joking was short lived, for the time for interviews commenced. The first couple hours left Eireach and Jeaule near physical pain they'd gone so badly and they'd hired so few. The majority of the applicants were Medb's former maids and they were doing little to prove themselves different from what Eireach had expected.

One graying woman had actually thrown her tea cup at Jeaule when she had been denied her former position as head of the kitchens. If it had not been for Eireach's quick magic and even quicker tongue, Jeaule's lovely ivory dress would have been ruined. Thankfully, that interview had been the worst of the day, but with over half the list gone and only ten maids hired, things weren't looking up. Eireach couldn't help but wonder if Cyric was having as much trouble.

It wasn't until after they'd been served their lunch that a ray of hope walked into the room. A look at her papers told him that she was a young farm girl from Damien's lands and her name was, "Kessandra Demoss." He whispered the name to Jeaule as the young blonde took her place before them.

"Majesty," she offered as she bowed before Jeaule. Her voice was soft and gentle, barely more than a whisper and while he could tell from the look in Jeaule's eyes that she still wasn't used to her new title, the girl was charming her. Eireach really couldn't blame her though.

While the girl didn't appear to be of exceptional beauty or a wonder to behold, there was a gentleness, a quiet grace about her that captured a person. Softly curling blonde locks brushed past her shoulders as she took her seat across from them, her face revealing its one truly beautiful feature in her bright baby blue eyes. She was no where near as tall and willowy as Jeaule, he guessed she would be lucky to be measured at Queen Sarah's height, which was very unusual for a Fae. As she sat, her hands clenched nervously over the dull material of her dress and Eireach could tell that she hid gentle curves under its unflattering cut.

"So," Jeaule's voice cut through the silence that had taken a strangle hold since Kessandra's demure entrance. "Why is it that you want this job, Kessandra?" It had been a simple question, but the girl fell to nerves like one used to being on the coals.

"Well," she started weakly, her hands wringing nervously in her lap. "I brought my parents here from our farm in the Westernlands." That explained her nerves, Eireach thought with an inner sigh. Damien's men were known to accuse first and investigate later and had a wicked affinity for accusing farmers of withholding crop tithing every year. If she was the only child…and a woman to boot…then she was most likely bothered by them all the time.

"If you and your family are farmers, then why are you looking for a maid job?" He didn't like being near as accusatory as the Westernland Guard, but while she might look sweet and innocent, more than one person had proven that mask an easy one to wear today. His mind flashed to the image of the sweet graying old lady who'd snapped upon being denied her job.

"Well," she said again, as if accustomed to starting all her sentences this way. "My family, my mother and father I mean…they aren't…you see," she stumbled for her words, distress evident on her face. "They aren't well." Her eyes were beginning to well with tears and Eireach, never one comfortable with a crying female, turned hopeful eyes to Jeaule.

"There, there," Jeaule soothed as she handed the girl a handkerchief and a cup of tea. From behind her golden locks, Kessandra wiped her eyes clear of the offending tears, gave a sad little sniff and attempted a weak smile at the two of them. Eireach merely smirked, not knowing what to do with the girl.

"Sorry about that." They both waved off her apology without a thought. "It's just that we thought now that Medb was out of the picture and there are kind rulers on the throne that we might find some nice farmlands over here." The thinly veiled flattery was not disguised from Eireach, but from the flush on Jeaule's cheek and the abashed smile on her lips, it had done its job. He could only hope that Jeaule wouldn't act the fool and let it blind her; he still needed to find out if that was genuine flattery or merely an attempt to sway the Queen.

"Why didn't you try for some land then, instead of looking for a maids job here?" He thanked the gods that the woman had brains in her head. That's the first thought that had filled his head and it pleased him that the Queen was smart enough to pick up on it as well. "There are plenty of available lands for your family, should they want it." Eireach merely nodded along with Jeaule, wanting her to keep going without his help and learn all the more from his silence.

"Well," Kessandra started yet again…her use of the word was getting on his nerves, he wasn't a big fan of meek willed people. "My parents wanted to, but…they aren't able to tend to crops the way they used to and I'm…not very good at much beyond cleaning and healing…." She trailed off, obviously not keen on elaborating, her hands set to wringing nervous circles in her lap again. Jeaule leaned forward and smiled softly, placing a comforting hand on Kessandra's knee.

"So you figured you would take a position here in the castle in order to take care of your parents?" The tears welled in sky blue eyes again and forced Eireach to shift uncomfortably in his chair. This is why the Queen hires the maids, Eireach thought with a twinge of annoyance, men weren't good with the tears.

Kessandra merely nodded, lifting the handkerchief as tears threatened once more. Jeaule seemed lost in the sentiment, so Eireach knew that it was time for him to do what he was here for.

"You certainly have the heart," he commented, hoping the smirk he gave was reassuring and not sarcastic. "I'm only concerned about one thing." He scanned down the length of her paper, pretending to look for something. In truth, he knew what he wanted to say, but he needed to see how she reacted when it appeared the job was on the line. There was a lot one could tell about a person from that reaction.

"What is it, sir?" She asked politely, there was no more shake in her voice than the impending tears couldn't account for. That was good, it showed him that she wasn't hiding anything.

"It just seems that you don't have any experience outside of your own home." He watched her eyes carefully and was pleased when all he saw was the disappointment. It was definitely a point in her favor that she showed no propensity towards anger. As he watched, her shoulders slumped before hopeful eyes lifted once more.

"I'm a fast learner and always willing to lend a hand wherever I might be needed." That was all he needed to hear. She'd stood up for herself without being pushy or rude, she'd passed his test. With an imperceptible nod to Jeaule, he signaled his approval.

The afternoon had dragged on after Kessandra had left, still teary eyed, but grinning from ear to ear with a promise to be there bright and early the next day. By the time the early evening sunlight was sinking inch by inch from the room, they'd hired twenty five maids. It wasn't nearly as much as they'd hoped for, but it would be enough to run the castle for now.

He grinned as he stood and stretched the days stiffness from his back, "That was an annoyingly long day."

"Yes," Jeaule added wearily, mirroring his actions. "I'm just glad you were here with me." She chuckled then and clapped him on the back. "Gods only know what would have happened to me if I'd been left to my own devices against that crazy old lady." He laughed deep and heartily, that woman wouldn't soon be forgotten.

"Oh come on, you would have been just-" he never finished his thought though, because muffled voices were growing louder and more irritated by the moment. When he finally heard a clear voice, it was a woman and one he was sure he wasn't keen to meet.

"I mean no one harm you idiots!" The guards weren't trying to keep her from coming in, there must be something else wrong, he thought.

"You can't take those in there with you madam." Weapons? He urged Jeaule behind him, but it was no use, the woman moved nearer the door.

"Really, Eireach, I stood up to Medb when I thought I might be killed," she condemned. "Whoever this girl might be, she couldn't possibly be as frightening as Medb.

"I just want a job and you bastards won't let me-" The woman's words were cut off as Jeaule opened the door. At fist, Eireach couldn't see why in the Underground the guards had been trying to stop her. She seemed like a normal Fae woman, save for the fact that she was wearing fitted dark brown leather pants and a white fencing shirt that looked several sizes too big. Her hair was pulled back harshly into a flat, braided bun at the base of her neck that he didn't have a reason for, while light brown hair and chestnut eyes were rather nondescript.

It wasn't until she bowed to Jeaule that he saw the reason for the guards concern, "Your Highness." The sapphire tipped hilts of two swords were sheathed, crisscrossed, on her back. Jeaule offered a hand that this woman seemed shocked to be offered.

"It's okay men," Jeaule stated, waving a hand at the guards. Eireach could only hope that she'd seen something in the woman's eyes that made her trustworthy.

"Fine then," one guard started roughly. "But you aren't taking these with you." His hand reached towards her swords.

"You touch those and you won't be getting your hands back," the woman said to the guard without even looking back at him, her eyes still trained to Jeaule. What threw Eireach about her voice was that she hadn't meant it as a warning at all…she was stating a fact.

Jeaule gestured inside the room, casting a warning look to the guards, "I insist that it's alright." The guards seemed bewildered by their Queen's behavior and Eireach had to admit he was a step away from the same reaction. What was Jeaule thinking? "Oh quiet that brain of yours Eireach, it's positively screaming at me." She said as she closed the door behind her. "This girl means us no harm; all you have to do is look into her eyes to see it."

"Thank you Majesty," the woman offered, bowing subtly yet again. This time, it caught his attention, and Jeaule's as well…how did one such as her…

"…learn to bow like that?" Jeaule finished his thought as a question to this strange newcomer.

"I was raised knowing the ways of the court," she started without a waver…at least that was a point in her favor, she wasn't hiding anything and her eyes did indeed look clear and without bad intent.

"Now, isn't that wonder-"

"But I was never allowed to be around the nobility." The sharpness…almost bitter…was not lost on either of them. Eireach decided to let that pass, for now, thinking her past must have more than a few skeletons ready to pop out and dance.

"Ok, easy question first," he started, though she didn't even look his way. "Why does someone looking for a maid job bring swords with her?" Her chestnut eyes turned to him then and she was indeed angry, but he could still tell they were in no danger. This woman was turning out to be quite confusing.

"Because I'm not HERE for a job as a maid." She stated simply, anger in her voice, but she still somehow held onto a calm…it was simply bewildering, like listening to a…oh. "I came here to help fight." It was Jeaule's turn to look like she'd been stung by a Wheedle.

"But…then, my dear," she started, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Why are you in here with us?" Hands that were surprisingly delicate looking, balled into fists at the woman's side, but her face remained as impassive as ever.

"Because the guards would not let me into the arena." He knew Jeaule would back her now, but he couldn't blame her. It wasn't fair that the guards wouldn't let her in. If she wanted to get beat down by some of the fiercest men in the Underground, by all means, let her. The smile came to his face before he could stop it. "You don't think I could do it either, do you?" There was something more to her condemnation than irritation, something far more deep rooted than the moment could explain.

"Madam…wait," he paused, realizing that they did not yet know the woman's name. "What should we call you besides madam or mystery intruder?" He saw her fight back the slightest of grins and the gesture pleased him, perhaps there was something more to this girl than the cool shell of a fighter.

"You may call me Sorsha, though mystery intruder has a nice ring, don't you think?" He and Jeaule laughed gaily at this first sign of the woman's, Sorsha he reminded himself, humor. "Look," she stated, her anger clear from her eyes now. "I'm sorry I barged in like this, but I don't like being excluded from things because of who I am." There was definitely a long seeded bitterness behind that statement, what must her childhood have been like?

**Sorsha** knew that she had to redeem herself somehow after barging in on the Queen like that. It had shocked her that the woman was so young. She'd heard that the new rulers of this land were very young, but she hadn't expected the platinum haired beauty that opened the door. It humbled her that the Queen was kind enough to give her an audience when those idiot men had denied her.

But from the look I the Queen's eye now, she had a feeling she would be denied no longer. "Then let's go introduce you," she heard, though her mind reeled as it was not the Queen's. Sorsha turned herself, looking into the eyes of the tall man with the coppery curls and kind jade colored eyes. Too bad he had the look of nobility around him, he only confirmed her suspicions when he walked in front of the Queen on the way to the arena. He was her guard or something.

"Eireach is the King's consultant," The Queen answered her silent question. Sorsha blushed, shocked that she'd let her thoughts be so apparent on her face.

"Then why is he with you?" She asked bluntly, grimacing that her manners had strayed so far from her during her time in…she shook her head, not wanting to think of that anymore. The Queen, on the other hand, seemed delighted by the question and chuckled.

"He was here to save me from flying tea cups." The man she called Eireach looked back at them, an impish smile on his face.

"And I performed my duties with flourish today." That must have been a personal joke between the two, for while they laughed, Sorsha was left to merely wing a brow in confusion. It was too bad those dancing green eyes and smooth laughter was wrapped with a nobleman's bow. Such a waste, she thought as they walked outside and the setting sun forced her to shade her eyes.

The arena was before them, half it's oval dirt field lined with stadium seating that was nearly full of men watching sparing matches kick up brown clouds around the fighters. The King must have seen his wife coming for someone called the match to a stop. Through the settling dust, a soldier appeared, dark brown hair pulled back in a pony tail, and headed towards them. Probably someone to lead the Queen to her husband, Sorsha thought, but as the soldier came closer, the Queen pulled from her and opened her arms to him.

"This is the King?" she asked disbelievingly before clamping her mouth shut, damning her quick tongue. Thankfully, the King seemed to have a sense of humor too.

"I know I don't look like much now, but I promise you, I'm quite dashing." Sorsha couldn't help the smile that quirked her lips, the man was charming even with the layer of dirt caked to his skin. "Don't you hug me, woman," he teased his wife playfully. "I won't be the one to ruin that dress of yours." The Queen ignored his warning and pulled him to her.

"Everything can be washed, my love." Their love was so apparent, Sorsha almost wanted to turn away, never one used to public affection…or private affection truth be told.

"Ugh," the nobleman beside her groaned. "All my efforts today have been for naught I see." She realized the joke had been for her benefit and forced her lips to quirk. He might be a nobleman, but it wouldn't do to offend the King's consultant before she was hired.

"So to what do I owe the honor of your visit today, Jeaule?" the King asked his wife. Sorsha wondered if that was the Queen's name or merely a nickname the King had given her, jewel. Either way, it was a pretty name.

"You owe it to Sorsha." The King's brow furrowed as he looked over at Sorsha.

"You, I presume?" Sorsha nodded as she stepped forward. "What can I do for you, Sorsha?" Eireach stepped forward at that, causing Sorsha's jaw to set irritably. She didn't need a nobleman speaking for her.

"She wanted to try out, but someone kept her from the field." The King seemed shocked, but by her want to participate or the fact that she wasn't allowed, she wasn't sure.

"I know more than any man in those stands," she said matter-of-factly, pointing towards the men. The King seemed amused by her comment, but he wasn't condescending…she hoped.

"Well then, my dear…" he smiled, his arm gesturing towards the field. "Please show me." She took a step towards the field, but a hand on her arm stopped her, it was the nobleman. Here eyes merely looked at his hand, wrapped around her bicep, willing it to let go.

"You have to leave your weapons here, we fight with wooden practice swords out there right now." She'd known this would come up, but there had been a little piece of her that hoped no one would have to find out who she was. With a heavy sigh, she decided it was inevitable and pulled her swords from their sheaths. The gasp from all three Fae around her was exactly the sound she had expected, a fear soaked shock.

"Where did you get those swords girl?" The King asked roughly as he took a step towards her. The shining silver blades caught the dying sunlight, the sharp edge had large, blue dyed serrations, like four vicious claws. She knew the swords were recognizable and had been shocked that the legendary full sapphire pommels hadn't been recognized while the swords had been sheathed.

"I got them from the very man you fear." Three pairs of eyes were at once guarded, alarmed at the reappearance of the swords after they'd been missing so long.

"How did you get them from General Kael?" The nobleman asked sharply, trust slowly slipping from his eyes. "No one ever saw him again after he betrayed the Goblin Kingdom." She knew that trust would be hard to come by once the truth was out, but there was no avoiding it, she couldn't hide from herself forever.

"He gave them to me when he died…he had no one else to hand them down to." Sorsha truly hoped they realized what she was saying, for she'd sworn to herself never to speak the truth of her heritage again.

"You mean you're related to him?" She sighed and lowered her gaze.

"Unfortunately, very closely." Realization dawned in all of them at the same time, but it was the nobleman who seemed the only one able to speak.

"You're his daughter aren't you?" There was something more than fear in his voice now, more of a shielded wonder. She grimaced and nodded, sick to her soul with the admission. "Evert child in the Goblin Kingdom thought you were a myth, some horrible joke that General Kael came up with." The Queen nodded in agreement, but the King still seemed mystified.

"What are you two talking about?" His wife turned to him.

"General Kael, you obviously know who he is, there isn't a soul in the Underground who will forget how he betrayed Jareth's father to Medb all those years ago, but you weren't a child growing up in the Goblin Kingdom…you never heard the stories of his daughter." Sorsha raised a hand in desperation.

"Can you guys save the stories for later, thinking of my father at all sort of makes me nauseous." All three sets of eyes went from suspicious to confused faster than she could register.

"You mean that you didn't like your father?" The Queen's voice was hopeful, it pleased Sorsha to hear that the Queen WANTED her to be good.

"A child does not choose their parents," she started flatly. "In my case, I was doomed with two that could care less about me." She could see that there was still doubt about her. "Look…my parentage is horrible, but I swear to you, I'm nothing like that man. He treated me lower than filth my entire life and I want nothing more than to redeem my name." Sorsha sighed and flipped the blades down, their tips sinking deep into the earth. "Hell, if I could, I'd change my name." She turned back to the three before she prepared to walk onto the field, "I want nothing more than to fight for you and prove myself more trustworthy and honorable than my bastard father."

The trepidation was gone from all three sets of eyes, but she knew that they would still be watching her. She expected that much, but she would prove herself. By the GODS she would prove herself.

"My gut tells me to trust you…" the King started, putting a hand on her shoulder as he smiled at her. "And my gut has never steered me wrong before." The sigh of relief ripped from her before she could curb it. "And now that I know who you must have learned everything from…if you're as good as you say you are, you could be in contention for General." If her jaw was able to hit the ground, it would have at this point. There was no way that she'd expected this at all. To fight for him, yes, but to actually be given that much trust…? Never.

"Thank you, Highness." She saw his nose wrinkle at the title.

"For the love of the gods, if you get the title, never call me that again. My name is Cyric." She smiled at him as she picked up two wooden practice swords and gave them a few swings to test their weight.

As she walked onto the field, she didn't miss the nobleman's voice, "Are you sure giving her that title would be a good idea?"

"Hush, Eireach…she's no harm to us…you can see it in her eyes." She didn't have to look back to envision the nobleman's eyes rolling contemptuously. All she needed to do was prove herself to the King that was giving her the chance she never thought she would be given.

**Cyric** watched the girl walk onto the field and couldn't help but feel a bit worried for her. What he'd said to Eireach had come from the heart. He couldn't tell anyone why, but he knew there would be no harm from this girl. She was thirsty to pull her name from the blood stained shadow of her father and by the gods, he would give her that chance.

"Who the hells is that?" He heard one of the men in the stands call out when they spotted Sorsha. Cyric led his wife and friend to the King's box to have a good view of the fight from the middle of the arena seating.

"My name is Sorsha Kael!" A shocked murmur rushed through the crowd of men. "Some of you were trying to keep me from proving myself, but your King has a bit more understanding than you stinking masses seem to." Cyric laughed, he couldn't help it, no one could deny this girl had balls…well…guts.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" He watched as Sorsha rested a practice sword on her shoulder and one brow slanted upwards.

"Not sure, but looks to me like a bunch of rowdy men simply looking to slam a few fists around," she paused and snorted derisively. "Perhaps some of you even think you know how to handle a sword…I wouldn't know." She'd worked the crowd up, that was for certain, but that was good…she knew how to work them and that was a good sign for the General he wanted.

"You're just a WOMAN!" One particularly large man shouted as he pounded his way down the stadium stairs.

"I'm more warrior than ANY of you in those stands." A chorus of laughter roared from the men in the stands, but it didn't seem to bother Sorsha at all. "You laugh now, but I challenge any of you to come down here so I can prove my words."

"Fine you little bug," the large man shouted once more as he made his way onto the field. "I will squash you beneath my feet." Cyric shifted in his seat as Jeaule gave a worried gasp. He'd seen this man fighting today, he was easily the best amongst the men. He could tell everyone else thought the same, for no one else stood up and they roared all the louder as he pumped his heavily muscled arms in the air.

Sorsha seemed unperturbed still, merely watching the behemoth's display with ill concealed contempt, "Sometime this year would be nice…I don't think Damien will wait for your show of bravado to end." Cyric saw that even Eireach grinned at that and for good reason…that man loved hidden lessons and Sorsha had just given one.

The man charged at her, enraged by her words, a wooden sword held high over his head. Cyric knew that when that sword came down, the force behind it would carry enough power to easily break Sorsha in two. But as the heavy wood arched down, Sorsha moved almost faster than the eye could follow and scored a hit on the behemoth's right Achilles tendon. Though the rules would have called the fight over, he charged at her again.

Cyric stood to order the man to stop, but Sorsha's hand came up to stop him, "She's teaching another lesson," Eireach told him, approval in his voice for once. "Enemies don't stop when they WANT to kill you." They watched as Sorsha continued to score hits on the man, knowing he would be bruised and sore the next day, but the behemoth didn't seem to care. He just kept rushing at Sorsha, overshooting and getting scored on left and right.

"This is the best you have, King?" She called out playfully as she dodged another hit. "He fights like a blind bull!" Cyric finally called out an end to the fight…he was starting to feel bad for the behemoth. The crowd didn't seem pleased by her win though, boo's and shouts still raging from them. Again, her hand came up, she wanted to handle this herself…he would let her. "You still think I'm not good enough?" Agreement was shouted in unison amongst the men. "Then why don't you all come down here?"

This time Cyric wasn't about to stay quiet, "Wait just a minute." The men stopped halfway to the field. It wasn't his full army yet, by no means, but there were a good fifty men she wanted to take on. "If you truly want to do this, Sorsha, there needs to be some rules." He focused his magic and spelled the practice swords the way he wanted. "Now, listen to me and heed my words, for if you do not obey them, you will no longer be in this army." The men all agreed and Sorsha nodded, silent. "Your swords are spelled to leave a mark on the enemy when you strike them. If you feel yourself hit LEAVE the fight at ONCE. If this rule is not followed, I will know and you will be asked to leave." Again, agreement echoed from the field. "The swords of the men will score blue and Sorsha's sword will score red." He finished and sat back down, not at all looking forward to the fight that was about to commence, but seeing no way to keep it from happening.

In a flurry of movement, the men attempted to pounce on Sorsha without warning, but she took four down with a sweeping kick before letting her swords swing around, scoring hits on three men and the four she'd knocked to the ground. All the men around her now realized she was good in a heavy battle and not just one on one. Suddenly, there was caution and Cyric was stunned to realize that this was yet another lesson, never underestimate your opponent.

"Don't just dance around me boys, let's go." And go they did, one by one and sometimes two or three at a time, the men had to walk away from the fight, shocked to be defeated by a woman, but respect finally lighting in their eyes. Cyric watched as she spun, kicked and rolled her way through the men in a dizzying array of styles. When she was down to merely ten men, Cyric stood and shouted for an end to the fight. He had seen more than enough to prove to him that this woman was more that capable of leading his armies.

The fight halted and Sorsha turned to him, preparing to bow. It happened faster than he could have warned her. One man behind her, blinded by a wounded pride, stepped forward and swung his practice sword across her back as hard as he could, knocking her to the ground.

"That's enough!" Cyric shouted as two of the other men left on the field grabbed the fool's arms. His eyes went to Sorsha, but she wasn't splayed on the dirt as he'd thought, she was standing, her knuckles white her grip in the wooden sword was so tight. Cyric knew that he wasn't going to stop this. It was the last lesson she would teach the men today…and every one of them, even the behemoth, was looking on her with respect, even adoration that she was still standing.

She turned to Cyric, looking for permission to teach the traitor his lesson, anger burning in her eyes that he knew went deeper than the pain in her back. This girl would never betray him if this is what she thought of those who did. He held his wife as Sorsha walked around to the traitor's back, for Jeaule didn't want to watch. The man's cry echoed through the arena and he was sure it would be heard a mile in any direction, as Sorsha smacked her sword against his back the same way she'd been hit.

"Take him away," Cyric ordered and the two soldiers dragged the whimpering man from the arena. Sorsha stood before him, no more than limping, and bowed in front of the box. "You have proven yourself beyond words today and it pleases me to give you the title of General." The men roared for her, but this time they were cheering for the new General Kael.

**(A/N: FINALLY! It's done. This chapter took me WAYYY longer than I thought it would. LOL But I still posted it up on Saturday, so pft! Ok, those who reviewed last chapter and made this epic chapter totally worth writing were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, maskedpainter, Miru88, notwritten, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears.)**


	4. Reluctance

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Damien** sat before his gilded dressing mirror, fretting over which cufflinks looked better with the royal blue velvet of his overcoat. He held up the shimmering opal to his wrist again, watching the colors shift against the smooth velvet and decided that they would work. There was no need to dress up after all; he was only meeting the troops today.

He took one last look at himself in the floor length mirror, shifting this way and that so he could see the whole of himself. The deep blue jacket was a perfectly snug fit with creamy ruffles spilling forth from the top in a wonderful cascade that never failed to make him smile. That combination set off the ivory breeches to perfection. Yes, he thought as the cufflinks caught the sunlight with a dazzle of color, this would do just fine.

Though, he thought gloomily, meeting with the troops today was a decidedly bad one. He detested having to watch the barbarians wrestling around, swinging swords and fists. Give him a decadent dessert anytime and spare him from the harsh reality of war. The only reason he was deigning himself this low was because that fool Cyric was sure to be slopping in the mud with his troops and Damien wasn't about to lose the loyalty of his own.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Damien made his way to the door and the grimy troops. Knowing that he was only moments away from conversing with mere soldiers was beginning to make him nauseous. But a quiet pop and a sultry laugh from behind him silenced his worries over the troops and a whole new set of fears started screaming as he nearly jumped right out of his shiny, heeled boots. The air had heated drastically and the last thing he wanted to do was turn around.

"What ARE you wearing?" The husky tone could belong to no one else and cemented his fears of who it was behind him. As expected, a coolly amused red gaze met his own as Kindraa walked around him, bored with waiting for him to turn to her. "Surely you have to know how ridiculous you look?" She laughed as she ran a long finger over his ruffles. Damien's nose wrinkled, for her clothing consisted of a piece of material wrapped around her chest and another long strip draped high on her hip. Who was she to question what a king wore?

But once those frightening red eyes met his again, his confidence was shattered, "Wha-what are you doing here?" He'd finally found his voice, but was disgusted with how shaky it was and desperately grasped for a shred of composure. The one thing that kept him from running out the door was the dawning realization that Kindraa wasn't here to kill him.

"I decided to stick close to you," she said matter-of-factly as she took a seat in one of his lavish, cushioned chairs, her legs draping endlessly over the side. "And I've been looking for an excuse to get out of that cavern." Damien's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she was saying.

"But you couldn't possibly!" He flinched as her hair lit with crimson flames.

"And why not?" Oh gods, he thought desperately, what was he going to do now?

"Well…" he stammered, not wanting to say the next words, knowing it could mean his life either way. There was a good chance that if he said them, Kindraa would kill him where he stood, but if he didn't, he would be throwing himself at the mercy of the gods if he lost this war. "The gods banished you there." Her eyes flared again and her fingertips danced with wicked, licking fire.

"The GODS did nothing as a collective," she spat, the fire in her very eyes. "It was MORRIGAN who banished me to that prison!" Damien coughed nervously; worried that she might singe his chair if she got any madder.

"Yes…well," again he cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to stay there?" He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, but he couldn't take them back. "I mean…unless you're summoned of cour-" Kindraa didn't allow him to finish, her hand was at his throat in an instant, her abnormally long fingers wrapping around his neck like a python.

"I am not a dog to be summoned by lesser creatures," she growled as she lifted his impressive girth from the ground. He shrieked, shocked at her strength. It was all too easy to forget that there was a powerful demon under the luscious curves of her disguise. "I've grown weary of my leash." Her fingers constricted on his throat to emphasize her point and it drew another terrified screech from Damien's lips. With a snort of disgust, Kindraa let him fall to the ground, wrinkling his velvet jacket and sending one opalescent cufflink skidding across the room.

"I'll set you up with a room then," Damien gasped for air as he brought himself back to his feet, sealing his fate with the gods should he lose. Honestly though, he was too frightened for his life at the moment to worry about that. He could only hope that he won this war, for it was his only chance at survival. With a sigh of defeat, he knew that his best bet to win the war was Kindraa's contact…so he would have to house her.

"I'm quite comfortable right where I am, thank you." His mouth hung open in disbelief as her long limbs curled up on his bed. "I'll have to redecorate a bit of course." His vision went dark and red at her words and steeled his back.

"Now see here, this is MY room!" Kindraa merely laughed at his outburst and stretched out further.

"And as long as you want my help, it's mine as well." Defeat hit him like a knife to the gut.

"Why do you want to share a room with me? Why here?" He knew that she didn't want to share because she desired him. No one ever had, though he didn't, for the life of him, know why. "You never moved in with Medb…" he whined, irritated that she insisted on intruded in his space.

"Oh sweet little Damien…you amuse me, she enraged me." She said it so simply, it made him scrunch his face up, insulted. "I want to keep you uncomfortable; it's delightful watching you squirm."

"Fine," Damien snapped, throwing up his arms in defeat. All he wanted to do now, though it made him dizzy to realize it, was to change and get down to the troops. At this point, he would do just about anything to get away from the difficult creature sprawled on his bed. "I have troops to attend to." Kindraa perked up as he flicked a wrist, un-wrinkling his jacket and causing the rogue cufflink to fly back to his wrist.

"I'll come with you then." Damien spun on the spot in horror that she'd just said that.

"You have GOT to be kidding!" Kindraa pursed her lips and quirked a brow, her irritation brewing.

"Not at all, Damien." She slid off the bed, her wraps metamorphosing into an elegant, royal blue dress that matched his jacket perfectly. Her long fingers straightened his jacket as her lips parted in a devilish smile, "After all, they are OUR troops now."

**Eireach** sat in the stands of the empty arena, waiting for Cyric and Sorsha, getting a feel for the space before it filled with soldiers training. This place wouldn't be as it was before. A hand brushed unconsciously through hair that had been cut short for his unwilling participation in the prior events of this arena. The coppery strands were getting their normal curl back, dancing around his forehead, but it would be months before they teased his eyelashes again.

He took the time alone to take in the area available to them here, but knew that he would ask Sorsha if she thought they should make the space bigger…which he thought they should. But, it was ultimately up to her. He just wanted the soldiers to be comfortable and well cared for. His father had taught him that the training environment was as, if not more, important than the battlefield. A cared for and well trained soldier would fight far harder for their king than those who were bullied and poorly taught.

His mind wandered, as it always did, to the fact that his father had lost to Damien's father all those decades ago…despite the training. Well, his mind rebuked, they'd been ambushed, completely unawares that the wicked king had ANY plans to invade them. Never, since he'd lost his father, did Eireach miss his father more than he did at this very moment.

It would have been an immense help in calming his mind to know what his father would have thought or done in this situation. Eireach had never been inclined to the soldier's life as his father had, but the man had never held that against him. He'd been grateful, and still was, to have such a man, such a KING, as a father. His father had supported the fact that his son would be more of an intellectual king than he was, joking that perhaps Eireach would know how to keep his eyes on the money far better than he ever had.

All his father had insisted on was a basic knowledge of war and battle. Eireach would never forget the look in his father's eyes when he'd proved himself far more apt than basic.

"What are you so happy about?" Eireach's vision of his younger self on the arena floor, cheering his victory, faded as Cyric approached from his left. He grinned as his friend sat beside him. "Have you finally found a girl to call your own?" Eireach chuckled, Cyric had been bothering him about this since a few days after his arrival…nearly two weeks now, Eireach thought with another grin. But he wasn't about to hold that against the man, he was, after all, a newlywed. That type always seemed to want everyone around them that they cared about to have just as much love in their lives as they did.

"Sadly, no my friend." Cyric gave a theatrical sigh as he clapped Eireach on the back.

"Ah well, it will happen soon enough." As much as Eireach wanted to tell him that he couldn't care less when it happened, Eireach simply smirked and nodded along with him. "Speaking of available female…" Cyric trailed off, jerking his head out to the field.

When Eireach spotted who Cyric was suggesting, the frown settled on his brow, it was Sorsha checking out the arena with a discerning eye and jotting down notes at a furious pace, "I really don't think so." Cyric matched Eireach's frown and shrugged.

"Why not?" Eireach didn't know how to explain it properly, so explained it badly.

"She seemed to have something against me the moment we met." It was deeper than that though and his mind strained to put a finger on it, but Eireach simply couldn't put it into words.

Cyric, however, had an answer for everything, "I'm sure she's just attracted to you, that's all." The phrase 'not likely' swam through Eireach's head, but he kept it to himself. "Some women are like that you know…pushing men away because they like them." Eireach turned his eyes to his friend in a silent plea for him to drop it. Cyric put his hands up in defense. "All I'm saying is…you're not repulsive you know."

Eireach laughed gaily, "Well gee Cyric, thank you for that," he joked.

"Thank you for what?" It was obvious that she didn't want an answer, but was merely finding a way into their conversation. She wasn't by any means flat out rude, but, Eireach mused, she had a way of making him feel lower than scum at times. It amazed him how she had the ability to discount him, making even HIM almost feel as if he wasn't even there. Yes, he thought, vindicated, Sorsha Kael had made it perfectly clear that she didn't like him. The only things that boggled the mind were two facts; one, he had no idea what he'd done to earn such treatment and two…why there were times he wished she weren't so inclined to dislike him.

"I was just telling Eireach here that he needed to get himself a girl," Cyric told her, to Eireach's dismay. He rolled his eyes, praying to the gods that his friend wouldn't mention Sorsha's part in that pleasant little conversation. But what came out of her mouth, before Cyric had the chance to embarrass him further, surprised them both.

"It's simply shocking that a nobleman hasn't taken himself a wife already." It wasn't her words that shocked and insulted on a level, for anyone could have said them with simple sincerity. No, the reason that he and Cyric stood there staring at her was the stinging resentment that had filled her voice at the word 'taken' and the anger that had fired her eyes, if for but a moment. Like always, it didn't seem particularly aimed at him, but at noblemen in general…and it still mystified him. She seemed to catch her slip and brought the notebook to her face, hiding the blush that had crept across her cheeks. "So I've taken some notes on things we could do to set this place up a bit more…."

**(A/N: I'm VERY sorry this chapter is so short, but I've had a death in the family and wasn't able to bring you a long chapter. I will make up for it in the next one, for SURE. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter anyways, catch you all next week! The readers that took the time to leave a review and make my day(s) last week were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, M. Quincy, Miru88, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit, Silent'Saki and The Banshee's Tears.**

**Thanks again guys!!)**


	5. The Mistakes of a Goddess

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Morrigan's** mind was bewildered and enraged by what it saw within her viewing orb. Now that the whole fiasco with Jareth and Sarah was concluded, her orb had gone back to its previous purpose…quelling her boredom with spying. No, she thought between the typhoon-like waves of anger coursing through her blood, it wasn't spying and she didn't do it for boredom's sake. It was her job now to keep an eye on Damien and Cyric for just as they were sure war would come, so was she.

What she saw in her orb now made her magic lick dangerously at her fingertips. How DARE Kindraa leave that cavern!? Wishing in vain that voices could be heard through the viewing orb, she watched as Kindraa dressed herself in blue velvet to match Damien. Morrigan's stomach dropped like a stone in water. What was happening with Kindraa was clear as crystal, even without words.

Morrigan pushed herself up violently from the viewing orb, cursing her way to her husband, "That no good, damned idiot of a king! How in the hells could that little hog have done…." On her tirade went until she spotted her husband. Ever calm and cheerful, he was her balance and she desperately needed him before she left to talk with Cyric.

The boy had just won her full support.

"Oh dear," Dagda exclaimed when he saw the murderous look in her eyes. "What's happened now?" His arms wrapped around her, the only comfort from her anger that she ever allowed herself. She let herself calm, listening to his steady heartbeat as she told him what the fat fool had gotten himself into. When she said Kindraa's name, Dagda's hand came to her neck and gently rubbed the tension from it as best he could, he knew what she'd gone through the first time with that creature.

With a sigh, Morrigan shifted in her husband's arms and rested her forehead wearily on his chest. The low, almost silent laughter that shook under her forehead was confusing and didn't help her temper in the least.

"Might I ask what in the hells you could possibly find so amusing about all this?" He pulled her back, the laughter in his eyes as well.

"You," he answered her with a grin on his lips. Before she was able to snap back at him though, his finger came to her lips to still her words. "I just think it's a tad funny that the goddess of war looks like she's dreading it." Morrigan wanted to pull away from her husband, but his arms held fast. Didn't the fool realize how she felt about it after all these years? The understanding in his eyes told him he did, but she knew that he was incessantly cheerful and would always think that way…it was why she loved him after all.

"Just because I'm the goddess of war doesn't mean I enjoy knowing all the pointless deaths there will be." She raked a hand through her hair, irritated with the pompous King who would start it all. "I mean, if there was a valid REASON to be doing this, it might be a bit more exciting, but that chubby tyrant's whole family seems to enjoy unneeded war." Morrigan felt her husband's warm, soothing lips on her forehead and was pleased he still had the ability to calm her so. Her agitation over the self centered, ego trip that was forcing Damien into this war against Cyric came down to a simmer in Dagda's arms.

"So you need to get over to Cyric's then?" She nodded, not looking forward to the meeting.

"I know that telling him war is coming won't be a shock, but I don't look forward to explaining to him that we are warring against a chaos demon with a grudge." And that was precisely what she was thinking of when she teleported herself to Cyric's fighting arena. Morrigan stomped an impatient foot when she saw that no one was there. Surely they were preparing for the inevitable? A crash of metal and wood behind her said yes, but someone wasn't happy.

She turned, a somber expression on her face, expecting to see Cyric or perhaps even Eireach, but the person her eyes met had her heart nearly jumping out of her chest with shock, "Sorsha?" she whispered. There was no doubt in her mind of who the girl was. It had been years since she'd caught a glimpse of her…ever since her moronic father and taken them both into hiding.

"Stupid, arrogant…" Sorsha mumbled to herself as she rounded the corner for more supplies. Morrigan's interest was peaked and while she knew it probably wasn't the most considerate thing to do, she weaved a concealment spell around herself so she could find out what was bothering the girl she'd waited years to see again.

Sorsha reappeared, her arms full of empty quivers and long, slender bows which she dumped unceremoniously by the pile of swords that had caught Morrigan's attention. The girl definitely wasn't happy with someone and more interestingly…she appeared embarrassed by the very same thought. Her brow was scrunched together, her irritation etched into the surprisingly delicate lines of her face while her cheeks flushed with rosy mortification.

She looked so much like her mother, Morrigan reflected suddenly. Sorsha's beauty was definitely toned down thanks to the harsh upbringing her father undoubtedly doled upon her, but the glimpses of her mother's beauty were there for anyone to see should they look. Though, she thought sadly, the girl would likely never want to know that.

"What in the name of the GODS does a noblemen know about war?" Sorsha's voice pulled her back from memories better left in the darkness where they'd been stored. Morrigan frowned, so her father had indeed instilled a hatred for noblemen in his daughter that was as thick and blind as his own. Though, Sorsha seemed just as interested in this guy, if the blush over her face was any indication, as she was aggravated by him. There had to be something that could show Sorsha that noblemen weren't all like that one….

Morrigan had hidden long enough, she wasn't about to intrude on the girl further, "Sorsha," she said, hoping she wouldn't frighten the girl, after all…she hadn't been in front of her since she was but a child. The sound of Morrigan's voice seemed to have shocked her more than she wanted, for the girl took a moment to compose herself before she turned.

"What is it NOW? Did Eireach send you out here to check on m-" the words cut off as Sorsha saw who she was talking to. Her face paled and her mouth hung in disbelief. Morrigan couldn't fault the girl, Sorsha must have thought that she'd abandoned her. "Goddess," Sorsha breathed in shock as she bowed her head to Morrigan.

"Oh child, don't do that, you never had to." When Sorsha's eyes met hers again, they were filled with all the unanswered questions that Morrigan knew she didn't have time to answer at the moment. The girl's pale skin and the fact that she hadn't been able to find her on the viewing orb told Morrigan where Kael had hidden them as assuredly as if the bastard had told her himself. She closed the distance between them and placed a hand on Sorsha's shoulder where she knew the mark would be and her heart broke as Sorsha flinched. "I never wanted you to end up there Sorsha."

"Yeah, well," Sorsha started with a laugh and a huff, "Father never much cared what you thought now did he?" Morrigan smiled down at her, wishing she could remove the mark so Sorsha never had to be reminded where her father had stashed her away.

"What are you doing here my dear?" She needed the subject change; there had always been something about this girl that had made her far too sentimental. Sorsha laughed, smirking at her.

"I'm shocked that the Goddess of war doesn't know when a new general is announced." How had she missed that? Because she hadn't been looking, that's how.

"I knew that you would be powerful one day, didn't I tell you?" As she said it, she regretted reminding Sorsha of that day. It had been one of the worst in the child's life. "I need to talk to Cyric, can you take me to him please?"

"Of course, Goddess," Sorsha said quickly, thankful for an excuse not to talk about the past. They walked together in silence through the castle until they saw Kessy, which is what the quiet maid preferred to be called, stepping out of the royal suite. "Kessy!" Blonde hair spun as the startled thing turned to Sorsha.

"Oh! Sorsha, what can I do for you?" Her voice was soft, a bit on the timid side for Morrigan's taste.

"We need to speak with the king," Morrigan said, drawing the mousy blonde's attention.

"OH!" She seemed nearly startled out of her skin to see Morrigan standing there. "They're both inside Goddess," Kessy stumbled over her words. "The king and queen that is." Morrigan nodded her thanks and the maid scurried off like a frightened little fox.

"Is she always like that?" she asked Sorsha.

"Afraid so, but you get used to it." Morrigan knocked soundly on the door to the royal suite and waited for Jeaule's gentle, "Enter," before doing so. She spied the willowy, platinum haired queen sitting at her desk across the room, the sunlight streaming from the open windows behind her cast a pale halo through her hair. Jeaule always made her smile because while she might be gentle and quiet, by no means was she as skittish as the maid she'd just met in the hallway.

"Goddess!" Jeaule exclaimed brightly as she spotted her, but a moment later, her brow furrowed with the realization that Morrigan wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. She stood from her desk and crossed to the open balcony doors and called out, "Cyric, come in here! We have company." A brightly smiling Cyric came in from the balcony; a spring in his step that Morrigan knew was due to his beautiful wife. He kissed Jeaule lovingly before he spotted Morrigan and Sorsha.

"What company this is! THREE beautiful women!" His eyes danced as he crossed to them. "How lucky can one man be?" Cyric hugged Sorsha, leaving her looking like a deer in the lights…or whatever that human phrase was. It wasn't a wonder the poor thing was so uncomfortable, she hadn't grown up with any affection to speak of. It killed Morrigan to know that it was partially her own fault.

For Sorsha's sake, she took hold of Cyric's arm, "We need to talk." The smile left his eyes, but she had to commend him on holding the one on his lips.

"Very well, just let me call in Eireach." Morrigan was sure that she was the only one who saw Sorsha roll her eyes. So Eireach was the nobleman who irritated the girl? Morrigan couldn't see that, the boy was charming. Or perhaps that was just the problem, she thought, remembering the flush on Sorsha's cheeks.

Eireach joined them only a few moments later and took his seat in the opposite arm chair from Cyric. The three women took their seats on the couch and listened with mixed interest and horror as Morrigan told them that Kindraa was in league with Damien. Not for simple advice, as Kindraa had done for Medb, but actually to the point of disobeying her banishment.

"I can't believe that she had the guts to do something like that," Jeaule sighed, walking over to sit on her husband's lap for comfort. "It's all going to be far worse than we thought, isn't it?" Morrigan nodded, not wanting to give news like this, but knowing they had a better chance with the knowledge.

"I am a vast help and I hold great sway over any battle," she started. They all smiled at that knowledge, all but Sorsha. Morrigan knew that hearing Kindraa's name again probably wasn't a joy to her. "But," she continued, hating that she had to send a crack through their hope. "Kindraa has a magic all her own, don't be foolish enough to underestimate her."

"So what do you think we should do?" Cyric asked, one arm wrapped securely around his wife's waist. Still, Sorsha sat silent, her eyes lost in the flames dancing merrily in the fireplace.

"Kindraa's specialty is possession, so you want to be careful who you share your information with." Eireach frowned at this, his mind working so hard you could see it on his face.

"How could she possess someone when she's with Damien?" Morrigan sighed, this was a big reason she'd banished Kindraa.

"She's unlike Fae, who can't be in two places at once. Kindraa is a chaos demon; she can split off pieces of herself and infect willing hosts." Morrigan saw Sorsha's breathing speed up. "That's a very important part of it. The host has to WANT her to take them over." She didn't want to bring it up in front of Sorsha, but the example had to be made. "Before I banished her, she was trying to insinuate herself into the powerful of the Underground, even to attempt to set herself up to the level of the gods." Sorsha's fists balled at her sides, but her eyes remained glued to the flames. "Because of her powers of possession, she nearly won, but her host had a change of heart at the last minute and she was cast from the body." Morrigan wrapped it up, not wanting to cause Sorsha further pain, but her actions hadn't been lost on the others.

"Are you okay?" Eireach asked Sorsha, leaning forward in his chair. Sorsha shook her head, her eyes clearing from their daze finally.

"I'm fine," she said flatly without looking at him. He chuckled, leaning back in his chair again.

"Alright then, it just seemed like you were a bit nervous while Morrigan was talking." Morrigan knew that he wasn't simply joking, there was a part of him, however small, that was suspicious of Sorsha. Oh what a fool, she thought as Sorsha's head turned to him slowly.

"It's just like a nobleman to assume." This should be interesting.

"May I ask you what you have against noblemen, Sorsha?" Eireach asked, his irritation and bewilderment showing clearly on his face. It was plain that his suspicions had only been stoked by her words, but because of a bruised ego and not facts. Morrigan's heart clenched in her chest, her sympathy for Sorsha nearly causing it to burst.

"All they know how to do is pamper themselves and break apart families." Her voice was as even and unemotional as it had been since the conversation started, even her face was a mask of indifference, but Morrigan knew the pain she felt.

"Well I'm a nobleman, why are you not venom on me?" Cyric asked, Jeaule looking quite unsettled in his lap. Morrigan wished that she could explain things to everyone, but it wasn't her place, she could only hope that no one took things too far.

"Because you're the king…it's different for a king." Tears began to well in eyes that didn't seem upset.

"Why?" Sorsha stood, her hands in loose fists at her sides.

"Please excuse me." She walked from the room without another word, leaving two very confused monarchs and an even more suspicious nobleman. Cyric smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Too bad she doesn't know that you were supposed to be a king," he said with a chuckle. "Maybe she wouldn't be so hard on you if she did know." Eireach shrugged the words off, his eyes trained on the fire that had so interested Sorsha a moment ago.

"Wasn't it just a bit suspicious?" Eireach asked after another moment of awkward silence. Cyric and Jeaule frowned, sharing a look that told Morrigan that Eireach had been nervous about Sorsha since the beginning. "I mean, while Morrigan was talking…it was like she was guilty." Morrigan couldn't stand anyone accusing Sorsha. "Maybe she's got a bit of Kindraa in her," he muttered quieter than he thought anyone could hear, but she was a goddess.

"She does." Three identically dumbfounded faces stared at her. "It was her mother that was possessed by Kindraa all those years ago. Sorsha was conceived while her mother was possessed, so a bit of Kindraa has always been inside her and always will be." Morrigan sighed, not wanting to tell them, but they needed to know the basics of this part of Sorsha's life. "I needed to tell you what Kindraa was capable of and in turn I reminded Sorsha of her past, one that wasn't kind to her at all." The three looked astounded by the news and Eireach was beginning to look guilty above all. "Rest assured that she is of no harm to you, I protected her from that part of herself when she was but a baby."

"Good job Eireach," Cyric teased, attempting to relieve the tension in the air yet again.

"How was I supposed to know?" He leaned his head back on the chair, obviously upset. "She goaded me with another of her jabs at me. I-I…" He sighed, not knowing what to say.

"It's not her fault…not really." Morrigan told him. "She has some pretty deep rooted problems with noblemen." She sighed again, not used to sharing this much of herself with people. "It's partially my fault, well…a bit more than partially I admit."

"What happened?" Jeaule asked quietly. Here, Morrigan bit her lip.

"It's not my place to tell you." All three of them slumped. "It's Sorsha's past to share with you when and if she should feel like it." Their disappointment was palpable in the air. "But there is one thing you could do." Three sets of hopeful eyes turned to her again. "Eireach, teach her you aren't what she thinks you are." He laughed at that.

"I'm not sure that's possible." Morrigan simply smiled at him and hoped that he would find a way.

**No** one had spoken with Sorsha since she'd walked from the room yesterday. Not that they hadn't tried, Jeaule thought as she dressed herself in the slender, fitted leather pants she always saw Sorsha wearing. They'd wanted to talk to her, well, perhaps she and Cyric had, though she wasn't entirely sure what Eireach had decided on the matter. They'd find out today though, come rain, curses or blood those two were going to be teamed together.

She and Cyric had talked it over the night before and had decided that while it might not be the best plan to shove the two at each other, Sorsha was so good at evading radar that it might be their only option. Morrigan had been right, Sorsha had grown up with warped values being shoved down her throat and she should learn that not all noblemen were the stuck up jackasses she seemed to think them. It had given Jeaule a moments pause to think that they were, in effect, doing the same thing Sorsha's father had, shoving an ideal down her throat, but Cyric had made the cruel observation that she wouldn't be able to stay on if she kept up the attitude.

It would mean losing either Sorsha or Eireach if the two couldn't learn to get along and Cyric wanted to lose neither of their valuable minds. So they'd covered their consciouses with that tattered blanket and hoped that it wouldn't turn out to be the wrong plan. Regardless of right or wrong, today was the first day of training and neither could avoid that so their plan would have its first test today.

Now she just had to convince Cyric to let her train as well. She'd been hinting at it, she smiled as she remembered Cyric's face. His mouth had dropped in disbelief and his eyes had nearly popped out of his head in shock before he'd flat out said no, but she wasn't going to give up, he was merely worried for her safety. When she was convinced that her apparel was what Sorsha normally wore, sturdy boots and leather pants with a loose fitted shirt over a form fitting tank, she made her way down to the arena where the troops were sure to have gathered already.

As she'd expected, the stands of the arena were full to bursting, some of their around thousand man army standing on the dirt arena floor for lack of seating. Not all the men would be able to fight on the arena floor at once, but they would have to work in three shifts. Sorsha had planned it all out for the good of the troops. Each group would spar and train for four hours each training session. Sorsha had told them that any more than that in one day was pointless for they would merely get tired and the training would be lost anyways. Though, she'd added with a smirk, she'd be there for all twelve hours of it even though she'd only be physically training with one group.

And so they'd called everyone together at once today to separate them off into groups. Group one was what Sorsha considered the best, those who would train while she was since they wouldn't need her constant guide, and groups two and three were those she felt would need a bit more attention. From the looks of it, Jeaule had arrived at the end of the separating. Thank the gods, her mind groaned in joy, the tedium of the separating would surely have driven her to sleep.

"What are you doing here dressed like that, Highness?" Sorsha's weary voice asked from behind her.

"What? Oh this," Jeaule said, gripping the loose over shirt, realizing she'd done a bit too good of a job mimicking Sorsha's clothing. The two now looked like twins dressed in the same clothes for fun. "I was trying to dress a bit more like you today," she admitted on a blush.

Sorsha laughed richly and Jeaule couldn't help but think that the girl needed more reason to smile, "Well, if that isn't flattery, Highness, I don't know what is." Her brown eyes twinkled as she inspected her. "Though, I think that airy dresses really do far more for your willowy form, Majesty." Jeaule's ego bristled as she realized that was Sorsha's kind way of telling her she wasn't getting on the field, much as Cyric had said.

"I thought, dear General, that you were told to call my husband and I by our names if you got the job?" Humor danced in Sorsha's eyes, it was good to know that the woman could tell when she was being rebuffed with kind words as well.

"I was told to call Cyric by his first name, you weren't part of that contract," she teased as she walked past her. "By the way, good luck convincing Cyric. I hope you do as good a job convincing him, Jeaule." Jeaule smiled at the use of her name and the realization that she'd gotten clearance from Sorsha to join in, but to what capacity Sorsha would allow her remained to be seen. Someone cleared their throat softly behind her and distracted her from her plans of how to convince her stubborn husband to let her train.

"Majesty," the quiet voice of the timid little maid came from behind her.

"What can I do for you, Kessy?" She asked as she turned to her. The girl was bowing, Jeaule really didn't like that and wasn't sure she ever would, but it came with the job so she'd have to at least learn not to grimace.

"I was just wondering," she started as she stood back off; dusting off her plain, awkwardly cut dress. "Might I be of service on the field today as a healer of sorts?" Jeaule smiled despite herself.

"Of sorts?" A vibrant blush washed over Kessy's delicate features.

"I know how to heal minor wounds, Highness, and I thought…" the girl paused to think of what it was she'd thought. "Where there's men and fighting, there's sure to be a bit of blood so…" She paused yet again, her nerves starting to get the better of her. "I guess I just figured I could help if I was needed." Jeaule took pity on the shaking girl and sent her over to the healer's station, set up at the edge of the arena, and hoped that she wasn't as nervous with wounds as she was around royalty.

Taking a deep, determined breath, Jeaule turned her attention to the field and her husband who was standing in the middle of it all. So help him, he would let her train. As she'd thought, his eyes went wide as he saw her apparel then narrowed as he realized her intent.

"No, a thousand times no." He was pleading more than demanding and that kept her temper down.

"I want to train just like everyone else, what makes me so special?" Cyric cupped her face in his hands, his eyes begging her not to push this.

"You're mine." She wasn't about to let his romantic thoughts keep her from doing this, though it did keep her from wanting to punch him.

"Shouldn't that mean that I am right up there with you?" He started to say no again, but she stopped him. "I stood up to MEDB for Jareth, for Sarah, for YOU. Why can I do that, but not this?" She knew he would say what he'd said before, 'that was a battle of words, not weapons.' "I'm doing this with or without your permission, though it would be far better to have you as a partner." Cyric sighed, realizing this was not a battle he would win.

"Fine, but until I feel otherwise inclined, I'm going soft on you." She kissed him, knowing she'd prove herself to him. It was enough that he was giving his blessing to join. Now she would have to devote herself to this so she could prove to him he hadn't wasted his time training her.

**Eireach** was sitting in the stands, waiting for training to begin, lost in an Aboveground story by a man named Shakespeare whom he'd come to adore. It was amazing to him how many Aboveground writers were brilliant and Shakespeare had become one of his favorites. He was re-reading 'Much Ado About Nothing' for what was probably the hundredth time and as ever, Beatrice and Benedict were starting to bother him.

Shouting on the field caught his attention and his gaze shot down to the dirt cloud that was forming. It was some random soldier; inch for inch of him muscled and trained to fighting perfection. And he was going at it with Sorsha. He jumped to his feet, not knowing if he could get there in time to be of any help and shocked that he was so quick to defend, but it turned out she didn't need the help. He should have known, he thought, annoyed that he felt even a little emasculated. She didn't need help, he should know that by now and he was a fool for thinking to run down there and embarrass himself by arriving too late.

He sat back down and lifted the book again, though the words blurred as his thoughts drifted else where. Gods, he wondered with sigh of relief, what would have happened if he'd actually gone down there? He would have been standing there, ready to help her and she'd have taken care of it herself…then laughed at the silly _nobleman_ for thinking she needed his pathetic help.

His hand raked through short curls, frustrated with himself. Morrigan had told him to attempt proving himself to Sorsha and here he was hiding behind a book. Jeaule had taken to Sorsha well enough, though they were nothing alike. Or perhaps that was just his prejudice mind talking. He had every right to be prejudiced; didn't she treat him like crap when he'd done nothing to earn it?

And there he went again, he thought with a groan, coming up with more excuses. With a determined sigh, he decided to do as Morrigan had asked. Though he figured she would still snub him, he was going to do his damnedest to become her friend. A smile crossed his face as he thought about it. It wouldn't be too bad, he thought, not too bad at….

The tip of a sword sliced through the pages of his book and stopped inches from his face. The shout had been unavoidable, but as he looked up at his assailant, he silently wished he hadn't. Sorsha twisted the sword and pulled the book from his grasp. He simply watched, dumbfounded, as the book slid down to the hilt of her sword. His tongue seemed glued to the spot from shock that she'd actually speared his book.

"The enemy won't come at you with books nobleman." His temper was being stoked, he knew, but he tried desperately to remember that he'd just decided to attempt the grueling task of being her friend. Eireach struggled up a smile and shifted his eyes from his book dangling on her sword to her face, which was smiling brightly. It was the first time he'd really seen her smile and it galled him how it punched him in the gut.

"The name is Eireach, I'm sure you've heard it by now." His retort had been unexpected, that much was clear from the look on her face, but she recovered valiantly, pulling the book from her sword and mending it with her magic.

"Then get up and join the rest of us, _Eireach_," she said, tossing the book back into his lap. Well, that was a start he thought as he placed the book on the seat beside him. "Unless," Sorsha started, the condescending smirk back on her lips, "you're too good to join us grunts for practice?" She was trying to goad him; it was a new realization to him. She WANTED him to flip out on her. A light flashed in his head, she wanted him to act exactly the way she expected. With a wicked smirk, he vowed never to walk into one of her traps again.

"Gods know I'm not better than any man out there," he stated, completely truthful as he remembered Morrigan telling him to be himself. "Let's go, shall we?" He stood up, a smile that he wouldn't allow was tugging at his lips as Sorsha looked defeated. Even though it was only a flicker of defeat, it was a good start.

**What** was he playing at, Sorsha wondered as he led her down to the field. Nothing, she admitted reluctantly. He was being honest when he'd said that he wasn't better than any soldier here. It confused her, which irritated her all the more. Pulling from his grasp, she headed towards Cyric and Jeaule, needing to get away from Eireach at the moment.

"It was lovely chatting with you," he called as she walked off. His voice was rich, she realized before shaking her head. She lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave without looking back.

"Ah, there you are!" Cyric exclaimed airily, though she could tell in his and Jeaule's eyes that they'd seen the whole conversation in the stands and were amused by it. She didn't hold it against them though. If she were in their shoes, she would probably be just as amused, but seeing as it was her own shoes she was in currently, it merely irked her.

"We need to start in the next five minutes," she said, changing the subject. "Or the whole day will be thrown off timing." She felt Eireach behind her before she heard his voice.

"So who am I partnered with?" He asked Cyric lightly. The king smiled and patted his friend on the back.

"Follow me, I'll lead you to your partner." There was something in Cyric's voice that put her on edge. It was that playful tone of his that signaled he was up to no good. She gave a sigh of relief as he led Eireach away.

"What was that for?" Jeaule asked with a grin.

"I thought your husband was going to be crazy enough to partner me with-"

"Oh HERE'S your partner, silly me." Cyric's laughing voice behind her made her grimace.

"Eireach," she finished, turning to the men behind her. They were both smiling which threw her. Didn't Eireach hate her by now? The grin on his face made her think twice about that. Before she could protest to being partnered with him, Cyric turned to address the entire first group.

"Training begins now, find a spot on the field and practice sparring." The men jumped up, eager to begin and yet another devilish smile spread over Cyric's face like a little boy who'd just thought up the perfect prank. It made her stomach clench nervously. What was he planning this time? She didn't have to wait long to find out. "One more thing boys!" Everyone stopped and turned to their king. "Let's impress the lovely ladies here today," he said gesturing not only to Sorsha and his wife, but to the women crowding the edges of the arena, giggling madly at the sight of so many finely sculpted men. "No shirts!" Sorsha groaned, he really was a brat.

She tried, really tried, not to look at Eireach when he did as his king commanded, but found herself near to staring as the bookworm proved to be a bit more than that. No matter how reluctantly, Sorsha had to admit that he better toned than half the men on the field today. She shook it off, relieved that she regained her composure before he saw her staring. Grabbing a training sword, she chuckled to herself. Despite his annoyingly chiseled abs, there was little chance that the nobleman even knew how to hold a sword.

Eireach passed her and gripped one of the swords, okay, so he knew how to hold it, big deal. In an elaborate display of far more skill than she would have hoped, he twisted the sword around in dizzying circles. She frowned, irritated beyond measure that he'd proven her wrong yet again.

"Oh stop that," she said, ignoring the impish grin that spread over his face before she turned and stalked onto the field. He was just like all the other noblemen…just a little different.

**(A/N: And there's another chapter. Thanks for all the well wishes guys, it meant a lot. The readers who reviewed and gave me reason to smile last week were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, For All the Broken Hearts, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, Miru88, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit, Silent'Saki and The Banshee's Tears.**

**Thanks guys and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!)**


	6. Bad Memories

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Sarah** and Jareth had made their way to the Easternlands so that they could help with the war preparation. Jareth could very easily have popped back and forth whenever he was needed, but Sarah hadn't wanted him to be that far away. At least that's what he told himself when he told her that they were going. He didn't like being away from his pregnant wife and he knew that he would be away from her a lot if he had to pop back and forth between the Goblin Kingdom and the Easternlands all the time.

He'd justified himself by telling Sarah that she would be able to spend much more time with Jeaule, who wasn't able to visit the Goblin Kindom often. Sarah hadn't needed convincing, for she'd missed her friend terribly since Jeaule had started training with the soldiers. Now the two would be able to keep each other company while still contributing to all the preparations.

They'd had to travel by horse and in Sarah's case, carriage. She had been enchanted by the fairy tale carriage that Jareth had presented her with. It had been his way of apologizing for making her travel five days over his and Cyric's lands. Jareth told her that she COULD teleport to the Easternlands, but there had been cases where the teleportation had a negative effect on the pregnancy. He hadn't gone into details, but she was quite sure she didn't want to know them, so she'd merely smiled, called him a paranoid father and agreed to the little caravan he'd planned.

Though it hadn't been quite the tiny caravan she'd thought it would. It looked like Jareth was protecting a nuclear weapon there were so many guards with them. Again, he'd tried to brush it off, telling her he was merely bringing a few of his best to join in the training in the Easternlands. Sarah knew that he didn't like being teased because of his overprotective nervous daddy syndrome, but there were times that she simply couldn't help it.

The best example of this had been the first night of their journey. She'd spent the day staring out the window of the carriage, amazed that she wasn't bored out of her mind. Watching as the scenery changed from the vicious, shifting beauty of the Labyrinth to the late golden autumn, rolling farmland that made up much of the eastern half of the Goblin Kingdom. It was surreal to watch the farmers carry on their lives, completely unawares or unworried over the imminent war that hung over the Underground.

Night was falling in amber jewel tones and a chilly evening breeze when Jareth called for the caravan to halt. They were halfway to a town called Everflow located on the banks of the Rialt river and Jareth said that it was time for them to make camp. Where Sarah had expected a camping trip almost, a sleeping bag under the stars, she found herself led to an elaborate tent filled with more luxuries than she'd ever even had in the Aboveground.

"What is this all for," she'd asked him as she stared around in amusement at the small kitchen that she had no clue why they needed. There was a bed that was nearly equal to that in their own private chambers. It was all a bit ridiculous and over the top for something she thought should have been no more than a tent and sleeping bags.

"My wife and mother of my child will not sleep on the ground," Jareth had answered with a huff of indignation that tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Well aren't we snobbish?" She'd teased, hugging his warm body close to her.

He'd given a short annoyed snort, "It wouldn't be good for you and the baby." Sarah had smiled up into his eyes, completely enamored of how adorable he was being. "Don't give me that look, I'm being perfectly practical." There had been ten pillows on the bed, just for her. She wasn't sure how she was expected to use them all and had asked him that very question. Jareth had gotten annoyed by that and told her that he'd find a place to stuff them if she didn't just go along with everything.

How was she supposed to argue with that? The rest of their trip had been much the same, but she hadn't teased him overmuch after that first night. She knew that being so worried and excited over the baby was making Jareth act ways he'd never thought he could before and it was probably making him a bit uncomfortable. He'd never had a father that had cared as much as he did about this baby growing within her, she of course he wasn't sure exactly how to act.

But Sarah thought he was being perfectly adorable about the whole thing. She just had to make sure not to tell him that. They'd arrived mid-morning on the fifth day of their journey and Jareth had proclaimed that they'd made excellent time. Cyric, Jeaule, Eireach and a woman Sarah had never met before were at the gates waiting for them when they arrived.

"There's my favorite pregnant woman in the whole world," Cyric had charmed as he helped her step out of the carriage. Sarah blushed, as un-immune to his charms as any other girl.

"You're shameless," she teased. "Your wife is right there and my husband is a jealous mad man." Cyric wrapped his arms around her in a friendly hug.

"Then we'll have to keep our love a secret dear one." Jeaule laughed beside him, smacking her husband lightly on the arm.

"Sarah's right, you're simply shameless." Cyric stepped back from Sarah and planted a kiss on the lips of his wife, who everyone knew he was hopelessly devoted to. "Oh Sarah, it's so good to see you again." Sarah laughed as Jeaule wrapped her arms around her. "I can't wait till you're showing," she said lovingly as she rubbed at Sarah's tummy.

"Oh yeah," Sarah groaned sarcastically. "I can't wait till I'm as big and ugly as a boat either."

"You'll never be ugly," Jareth said, irritated that she would have thought such a thing, as he walked up behind her and slid a possessive arm around her.

"Well thank you, love, but we both know that I will grow big as a house."

"But what a lovely house you will be." Eireach stepped forward and bowed slightly to Eireach before taking Sarah's hand and kissing it. "It's wonderful to see you again." Sarah smiled, but noticed the woman she didn't know shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if the girl was uncomfortable with the amount of affection everyone was showing each other or if…more interestingly…she was uncomfortable with Eireach showing her attention. She would have to ask Jeaule about that for sure.

"And who is this?" Eireach looked back to where Sarah had nodded and a curious grin captured his lips when he looked at the woman. It wasn't necessarily adoration, nor was it really devilish, but it was strange enough to have her desperately wanting to talk to Jeaule. And from the look on her friends face, Jeaule wanted to talk to her as well.

"This is Sorsha," Eireach had said as he led Sarah over to the woman with the rather understated beauty, hidden underneath dirt smudged cheeks and training scarred leathers. "She's our general." Jareth had perked up at this knowledge.

"Really?" His tone hadn't been particularly condescending, but more that Jareth tone that most people mistook for it and it was apparent that Sorsha had.

"Yes, I am." She held out her hand, surprisingly delicate looking for a general of armies. "Sorsha Kael at your service, Goblin King." Sarah was about to remark on what a beautiful name she had when Jareth grabbed her arm and pulled her back, his eyes fixed with a deadly anger at Cyric.

"Are you crazy!?" Cyric raised his hands defensively.

"She's not like her father Jareth."

"Like hell she isn't!" It was Cyric's turn to be offended.

"Do you really think me that stupid?" Jareth was taken aback by that question while Sarah stood, quite clueless as to what was going on. "She's trustworthy, Morrigan herself backed her. She is of no harm to us." Sorsha stepped forward and Sarah hoped urgently that the woman might explain something of what was wrong with Jareth.

"I know you don't trust me, Goblin King, but I swear to you on the blessedly rotting corpse of my father that I would rather die a thousand deaths than to ever be compared to a monster like him." Jareth calmed at her words, letting go of Sarah's arm.

"If Morrigan trusts you, then I trust you," he said flatly. "For now." Sorsha nodded sharply, knowing that this was the best she would get from him. Sarah couldn't help but be impressed that the woman knew enough not to push him. "If you don't mind," Jareth continued, turning to Cyric and Jeaule. "We had a long journey and Sarah needs to rest."

"Rest!?" Sarah exclaimed, exasperated. "All I've done is sit on my ass the past five days and I need to rest?" The look in his eyes told her not to argue with him just yet. Something had gone on that she hadn't been privy to. He was merely looking for an excuse to get away from Sorsha. "Very well. I'll be down to visit with you in an hour or so Jeaule," she said as Jareth led her past them and into the castle.

They unpacked in what Cyric had jokingly called 'the spare royal suite.' In reality, it was Jeaule's idea to have the extra suite for just this occasion, so Sarah and Jareth had somewhere suitable to sleep. Sarah gave her temperamental husband time to cool down and did as he asked, resting until it was time for them to go visit with Cyric and Jeaule.

"So what was that all about down there?" She asked on the way to the private lunch they were going to have with Cyric and Jeaule.

"I'm sure we'll talk about it over lunch." Was all he'd answered her. She truly hoped that they did indeed talk about it, for she was far too curious about the woman with the bland brown hair to stay quiet about her. Thankfully, only minutes into the lunch with their friends, it was brought up.

"I swear to you that she's trustworthy Jareth," Cyric said between bites of the delicate chicken the cooks had prepared. Jareth sighed and set down his silverware.

"I know she must be for neither you nor Medb would back her if she weren't." There was something working in Jareth's mind, she could see it. Something angry and confused. "It's just a shock to think she was real, let alone that she's here." Jeaule nodded knowingly as she took a sip of wine.

"I know what you mean. Eireach and I were shocked when we found out who she was too." Jeaule smiled conspiratorially at Sarah. "It took him more than a week and a tongue-lashing from Morrigan before he trusted her." Sarah was filled in on Sorsha's patchy past and found herself completely intrigued by the girl. Such a horrible past, certainly there was more to her than what everyone assumed of her.

"So do you know anything about her that we don't?" Cyric asked Jareth over dessert.

Jareth shook his head, "No more than Jeaule or Eireach." He leaned back in his chair, trying to think if there was anything special that he might have heard about Sorsha that the others wouldn't have known. "Her mother left General Kael right after she was born, but no one knows who her mother was, Morrigan kept that very silent. All I know is that after the woman left Kael, something broke inside of him. He must have really loved the woman." Jareth sighed as his hand reached for Sarah's unconsciously. "No one ever saw his child, though he spoke of her. Eventually a darker side took hold of him and he betrayed my father to Medb. Why Morrigan let him keep the child is beyond me, but what's done is done…he disappeared after the betrayal." Sarah was confused now, she felt badly for the child Sorsha had been, but this man who had been her father…what could you feel for him? He'd been abandoned by a woman he obviously loved, but his ultimate betrayal of Jareth's father was beyond something she could push aside.

Jeaule looked sad as she stared down at her hands, "Poor little child, I wonder where he took her?" Jareth looked reluctant to speak and it got Cyric's attention.

"Do you know…?" Jareth looked up at them all, hesitation stilling his words.

"I always had a guess, but not many would agree with me." Three sets of eyes were glued to him now. "Underflow." Jeaule looked shocked and Cyric laughed, but why…Sarah didn't know.

"What's Underflow?" Jareth picked at his slice of cake with his fork, obviously irritated that Cyric was laughing at him.

"It's a myth, a rumor started by thieves," Cyric answered her, regaining his composure. "It's not a real place." Jareth prodded at his cake some more, frustration clouding his eyes.

"Now you don't know that for sure," Jeaule chastised. "No one's ever proven that the place wasn't real." Cyric grinned as he took another bite of cake.

"Yeah," he said, pointing at his wife with an empty fork. "But no one has ever proved it was real either."

**Sorsha** hid herself out at the archery range after King Jareth and Queen Sarah had been escorted to their rooms. She'd nearly jumped out of her skin when the Goblin King had seared her with that gaze of his. No one had ever frightened her like that since her father, though this fear wasn't like that her father imposed upon her. She knew that once the Goblin King got to know her, he would come around, just like everyone else. She'd never had a chance like that with her father.

She turned her mind from the memory of the dangerous gleam in Jareth's eyes to the quiet solitude of the archery range. No one came here unless it was a training day and she figured that would mean that Eireach wouldn't show up either. The nobleman had developed an annoying habit of popping up when she least expected him. Eireach was acting like he wanted to be best friends with her. It was a strange change of attitude for him and Sorsha knew that she could probably owe it to Morrigan.

He'd been very different to her since Morrigan had been here two weeks ago. Sorsha couldn't help but wonder, sickened, if the goddess had told them of her mother. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to know that her mother had been weak enough to let Kindraa manipulate her. She didn't want Eireach to be nice to her now just because of her pathetic past. She grabbed her stringer with a huff of irritation and gently pulled back the upper limb of the glorious recurve bow Morrigan had gifted her with a week prior.

Her mind luxuriated in a topic other than the increasingly grating habits of a certain nobleman and let her thoughts drift to the beauty of the dark wood in her hands. With her bow strung, she pulled it taut, testing the bend of the wood. As it had been the day Morrigan gave it to her, it was perfect. The handle was elaborately carved with Celtic symbols that Morrigan had explained to her were imbued with magical protection.

It was a gift fit for a god and yet it rested in her hands, made exclusively for her; a gift from the goddess of war herself. Sorsha wasn't blind as to why it had been given to her either; Morrigan felt guilty for leaving her in the care of a father who lived his life to torment his daughter. Sorsha always assumed it was because her mother left him, but the General…for she hadn't been allowed to call him father…hadn't told her anything beyond the fact that her mother had left them for a nobleman. Anymore, she couldn't help but wonder how much of the story she didn't know. Her father's voice echoed in her head, tormenting her as it always did.

"You were barely free from her womb when he wooed her away from me," he used to slur in his drunken rages. "And she left me with _you_!" Every time he'd said that, and he'd said it regularly, his eyes would rest on her with ill veiled disgust. It hadn't been a pleasant way for a child to grow up, Sorsha knew that, but it hadn't been her father's treatment that had been the worst of it, she thought, her fingers lingered over her shoulder where the marking was.

No…her father hadn't been the worst of it, but he'd been the one to take her there. Her fingers tightened reflexively around the handle of the bow; she could almost feel the dank air again and her eyes squinted against the bright sun that lit the archery range. It had been years since she'd seen sun that hadn't been filtered down through crystal blue water.

"What are you up to?" Eireach's voice cut through the darkness of her memories and wrenched a groan from her. This wasn't the time for him to play buddies with her. He did this all the time, she mused as he rested himself against the wooden fence that was around the archery range.

"I'm baking a cake," she said tetchily, a hand on her hip. He smiled and her stomach tightened. She hated it when he smiled, the last thing she wanted to do was admit that he was handsome, but she'd seen too much of him to deny that. All she could do now was repeat to herself over and over that she wasn't attracted to the aggravating nobleman currently smirking at her like they were old friends.

"Well, by all means, don't let me stop you." Eireach settled himself against the fence, obviously not planning to leave any time soon.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What better way to learn than from the general herself?" Sorsha sighed and decided to ignore him as best she could. She picked an arrow from her quiver and settled the nock against the bow string, pulling back until she felt the feather fletching brush against her cheek. Sorsha aimed for but a moment before letting the arrow fly, hitting the target dead center. Soft clapping sounded from behind her. "Good job."

She didn't quite know why that irritated her because he was being sincere…perhaps that was what bothered her. He wasn't acting the way she thought he should, honestly, he almost never did. Sorsha tried in vain to ignore Eireach, though she felt him move from the fence knew he was headed towards her. Another arrow nocked, she aimed again.

"I do feel quite honored to be learning from the best." He was being honest, she knew that, but there was something about the way he said it that bothered her. Was he trying to butter her up for something or was he really simply trying to be her friend? She didn't know how to handle that, she'd never had a friend…let alone had a nobleman deign to talk to her as one. The arrow flew from the bow and missed the center, hitting a few inches from where she'd intended it to go.

"Yes, well you need it," she spat, more irritated at missing the mark than at him. Guilt washed over her the minute she said it and she sighed, grabbing another arrow. "Sorry," she amended shortly. His comical gasp came from next to her and she tried to ignore it as she settled the shaft on the arrow rest once again.

"You're really sorry?" He asked, a smile in his voice. She didn't want to smirk, she needed to focus. "I'm touched." She let the arrow go, abashed when she saw it was near the edge of the target.

"I'm sorry, yes," she said quickly, wanting to keep Eireach from noticing her error. "You're a good fighter and I had no right to say that." His hand smacked to his chest, mockingly shocked. "Oh shut up," she chided, fighting the laughter that wanted so badly to break free.

"What…?" He asked innocently as she set yet another arrow. "I didn't say anything." He was right next to her now, so close she could feel his body heat. She didn't like it, hearing her father in her head though she wanted desperately to drown him out. When she let the arrow go this time, pure shock set in as she nearly missed the target completely. There was nothing she could do to distract Eireach this time and simply cringed inside waiting for him to act the nobleman and rib her for it. "Why Sorsha, I'm not distracting you am I?" Her face flushed and she pulled another arrow into the bow.

"No…this stupid bow is weak," she lied pathetically, causing the irksome little nobleman to chuckle. She sighed, Eireach knew as well as she did that the bow was perfect. Sorsha pulled the bow taut again and noticed him move out of the corner of her eye. She felt his breath on her neck before she heard his words and every inch of her skin tingled…she didn't like it.

"I think it's me." His words shocked her and when she loosed her arrow it missed the target completely, sinking deep into a tree a few yards behind it. Her body went numb as her eyes stared at the arrow lodged into the tree. The scar on her jaw line felt like it was on fire and her vision blurred.

_The bow was large and awkward in her small hands, but her father was drunk and there was no getting out of this and she knew that she'd be standing here for a while. Already, she'd been at this training for two hours. For a girl who was no bigger than the bow she held so clumsily, that was far too long._

_Sorsha tried so hard to pull the bow string back to where it needed to be, but she was too small and not strong enough, it merely snapped back every time she attempted it. Her father was becoming more and more irate every time she failed to bring the bow back. Finally, she managed to pull the bow back to where she felt the brush of the fletching against her small cheek. The arrow flew and her heart caught in her chest as she watched it fly through the air. When it missed the target, her body tensed, preparing for the familiar crack of her father's hand._

_But when she saw the flash of the general's knife, her senses flared. Pain cut through her like lightning and wetness coated her throat. Her fingers fumbled at her throat, feeling for the slash her father had just bestowed upon her. Her throat was sticky with blood and she felt dizzy. The general wrenched her hand away from the gash on her jaw and smacked her, blood spraying from the cut and painting his hand. Sorsha knew that he was drunk, but while hitting her seemed a hobby of his, never before had he drawn blood. She was stunned._

"_You EVER miss again," he warned, "and I'll give you a scar that won't be as easy to hide."_

And she hadn't missed a target again since…since. Her vision cleared for a moment and she saw Eireach's shocked face before gravity got the better of her and the world faded to darkness.

**(A/N: I hope that everyone had a very Merry Christmas!! Here is yet another chapter for you guys, and I hope you all liked it. Now that Sarah and Jareth are in the Easternlands, you'll see more of them. I know there are a few of you that will be happy about that. LOL Readers who gave me the great Christmas gift of a review last week were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Eternal Eyes, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101 and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys and happy reading!)**


	7. I Said I'm Fine

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Eireach** sat in a dark corner of the healer's room with his head in his hands, his body not even taking the time to register the stiff uncomfortable chair he'd been sitting in for over an hour. Sorsha was still as death on the patients table, save for the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest. If not for that small sign of life, Eireach could have been fooled. Her face was still as pale as when his heart had leapt to his throat. It had happened so fast, he thought, remembering it all for what seemed the millionth time.

He'd only been teasing her, just teasing, trying to get a smile out of her. He'd been trying that for a while now. It had become almost a sport at times, but whenever he'd seen the corner of her mouth twitch even the slightest bit…it had been worth the sharpness of her tongue a second afterwards. It was what Morrigan had told him to do, he insisted to himself as the corners of his own lips lifted. It was what Morrigan had asked.

Then he'd seen her there in the archery range, all alone, just waiting for him to bother her some more. How could he have turned that down? Especially after how Jareth had just treated her…she needed a smile. Eireach had figured a few playful remarks and he might just tease one out of her yet, but it hadn't gone at all as he'd planned.

The memory of her body stiffening ran through his mind yet again, that horrible moment of total silence where he wasn't sure if she would turn and beat him senseless or if she would merely pick up another arrow and go on ignoring him as she'd taken to doing. But she hadn't done either; instead, she chose a course that made his stomach fall right to the ground with her. Her eyes had gone wide with fear and surprise at the empty air before her and her mouth had hung slack in shock.

When her hand leapt to her throat and the small, strangled gasp had issued forth, he'd been so scared that he'd made her hurt herself, but after a quick glance over her, found her to be just fine. It had been her eyes that frightened him the most, those normally cynical chestnut eyes of hers. They were glossed over, lost in a memory that was the source of her torment. He didn't need to shake her out of it to realize that it had been something that her tyrant of a father had done to her.

All he'd had to do was move her hand to see the scar that ran along the bottom of her jaw a good four inches long to know…and he cursed her father's rotting corpse for it. That was when her eyes had cleared a moment and he'd seen something in her that had shocked him to the core…vulnerability and fear. Eireach hadn't had time to process this new side of her for she'd gone slack in his arms before he'd even uttered a breath of astonishment about it.

That had been far over an hour ago.

A low groan lifted his head from the comforting cradle of his hands, she was stirring. Without thinking past the need to know if she was okay, Eireach crossed the room to stand beside her. She looked so abnormally helpless lying there, her brow furrowed from whatever bad dreams she'd slipped into. He found his fingers lightly trailing along her forehead in an attempt to smooth the anxiety from her brow.

The shock of seeing his fingers where he hadn't bid them was overshadowed by the fact that Sorsha's eyes were opening. He was the first thing she saw and it was a good sign that her first reaction was to roll her eyes and groan. While it did nothing to bolster his ego…at least he knew that she was herself.

"Are you okay?" He asked in an attempt to clear the air between them. It annoyed him to realize that he didn't want her to be irritated by his presence anymore. Her brow creased again, but not from nightmares this time. This time it was the cause of uncertainty.

"Where am I?" she asked. "And why are you here," she added with a scathing glance his way. "Again…." He smirked at that, unable to hold it back. Oh yes, he thought merrily, she was herself still.

"You passed out in the archery range." Her face paled again, but not to the drastic pallor that had frightened him out of his wits earlier. "I brought you here," he answered her, gesturing to the healer's ward around them. Those chestnut eyes scanned the room and then, realizing where she was, she sat up like a shot. "Hey, don't move so fast." Her eyes bored into him as he tried to make her lay back down. "You should rest."

"Don't you presume to tell me what to do!" Sorsha nudged him aside, obviously mortified at having passed out in front of him. Eireach knew that showing that amount of weakness to him as akin to being caught naked in the training arena.

"I just thought you might want to rest until you're sure you feel fine." She avoided his eyes as she stomped her feet back into her boots.

"Would I be getting up if I didn't?" He folded his arms across his chest, skeptical that she felt better, but knowing he had more chance to tame a Wheedle than for her to act sensible around him. She saw his unconvinced stare and squared her shoulders. "I'm fine," she insisted, pushing herself up from the bed as the healer walked in. Her kind, oval eyes smiling at the belligerent Sorsha as if she dealt with her kind every day.

"I have to beg the good General to rest herself."

"I said I'm fine!" Eireach stepped between Healer Jayachin and Sorsha before the latter spouted off further at the kind-hearted Healer.

"She insists that she's well enough to go on about her day." Eyes that looked like a tree's canopy at the start of autumn, a field of deep green with delicious specks of gold and orange, held an insistence of their own. He shook his head slightly, silently asking…no begging…the woman not to challenge the volatile Sorsha. So intent was he on the young healer that he missed Sorsha's shock that he was helping her.

"Very well," Healer Jayachin conceded finally, though not to her better judgment. Eireach thanked her as Sorsha pushed past him, needing to escape the Healer's ward.

He called out to her as she all but ran down the hall, "Hey! Wait up!"

**With** his wife safely seated in the royal box in the center of the arena, Jareth made a quick circuit of the dusty oval. Men were beginning to spar each other, slowly though for their General had not yet arrived. From the slow motion lunges and parries that Jareth inspected them making, he had to admit that she was at least teaching them all proper form. That was sure to give them an upper hand over the slap dash techniques of Damien's troops.

Jareth approached his wife, looking up at her shining face in the cool afternoon sun. Yes, he thought greedily, she'd made the transformation to Fae quite remarkably. "I do hope you plan to apologize to Sorsha." Jareth double took his wife; almost disbelieving it had been her voice.

"Why would I?" He'd been planning on doing just that…in his way, but when Sarah's eyes glanced down at him, the guilt washed in a little more than he would have pleased. He steeled his back as he met his wife's admonishing stare, he'd had every right to react the way he did. "Oh very well," he heard himself saying before Sarah told him what a prat he was being.

"You're such a good man," she teased as she leaned back into the high-backed chair.

Jareth winced sarcastically, "You would do well to keep that to yourself, my lady." Sarah's chuckle was drowned out by commotion on the far side of the field. When he turned, he saw Sorsha, like a she-dragon ready for battle, followed by Eireach. He didn't quite hear what was said, but he was sure he heard something about her being fine and for him to back the hell off. He felt Sarah's gaze on the back of his neck, "I'm going woman…I'm going."

As he promised his wife, he crossed the field to where Sorsha was picking out her training sword. It hadn't occurred to him that Eireach had backed off for a very good reason. That reason was pressed against his throat after he'd tapped Sorsha on the shoulder.

The smoothed wooden sword rested against his throat in a blur of motion, "Eireach I SAID I'm fine!" Her eyes finally looked up at him and the mortified shock set in faster than Jareth could blink in surprise. "You Highness! I thought it was Eireach," she stumbled over her words, "and he's just been so…" she trailed off.

"I guess Eireach really got on your nerves," Jareth joked as the sword nearly fell from her hand.

"I'm so sorry," she covered the grin in her eyes with the chagrin she clearly felt at having assaulted him.

"Don't worry about it." It was clear to Jareth that she would, regardless of what he said and her reaction helped the next words that came from his mouth. "It's actually me who came to apologize to YOU." If he thought it was impossible to stun her further, he was proved very wrong when her mouth fell open.

"For what…?" He repressed the urge to say, 'I was wondering the same thing myself' and smiled at the startled young woman.

"For the way I treated you earlier. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, certainly not when people that I trust with my life have placed their OWN trust in you." He watched as she relaxed, almost muscle by muscle.

"Your apology is appreciated, but it really isn't necessary, Your Highness." She said as she got a better grip on the wooden practice sword. "Honestly, I would have reacted the same way you did, my father was a hell spawn who completely earned the reaction you gave me this morning." He respected the fact that she was smart enough to realize his reasons behind the reaction and pleased that she could forgive it of him.

"Regardless of how terrible your father was, I shouldn't have and I'm sorry for it." Sorsha nodded slowly in silent acceptance. "Let's start over shall we?" A smile crept over a face he could tell wasn't used to the expression.

"Damn you, Jareth," he heard Eireach's voice from behind him and turned to see Sarah was on his arm. "I've been trying to get that out of her for weeks!" The smile faded from Sorsha's lips almost as fast as it had appeared there. Instead, she sighed and rolled her eyes at Eireach's chipper attitude. "Come Sorsha, it's time for training."

"I'm not your pet dog, Eireach," Sorsha snipped before turning to Jareth once more. "It was lovely talking to you." She spared Jareth a smile that he would have bet his whole kingdom was only to bother Eireach further and then strolled onto the field.

"Time to battle the dragon I guess," Eireach smiled as he kissed Sarah's hand. With a quick bow and smirk to Jareth, he turned and followed Sorsha onto the field, mischief in his step. Once the two were out of hearing range, his wife's laughter bubbled forth.

"What's so funny?" Sarah motioned out to the forms of Eireach and Sorsha who were starting to train, her blows far more intent than his.

"Those two are." He watched as Sorsha swept a leg out and tripped Eireach, sending him to his butt in a cloud of dirt. Eireach got his revenge when he grabbed her ankle and brought her down as well, an irritated cry on her lips. "I really must talk to Jeaule about who those two treat each other." With a smile on his lips, Jareth watched the two grappling in the dirt to the amusement of the soldiers around them.

"Yes, it's abhorred," Jareth said as he led his wife back to the safe, high-back chair she'd so stubbornly abandoned.

**Cyric** watched the commotion from the other side of the field as Jareth, but with just as much amusement. Those two would break something before they admitted that there was something more than animosity sparking between them. From the laughter in Jeaule's amber eyes, she was thinking along the same lines as he was.

"I don't think either of them knows how we catch them looking at each other at times." Cyric seriously hoped that his platinum beauty never stopped astounding him by thinking the very same thing. If she did…he just might go mad from boredom.

"Yeah," he agreed with his wife. "They'll most certainly lead each other on a merry chase." His gaze traveled back to Sorsha and Eireach in time to see her pin him down for a moment, a triumphant smile on her face. But that didn't last for long, a moment later coppery curls pushed her off and advanced on her again.

"Sorsha is by far more stubborn, but I can already see something in Eireach's eyes," his wife said on a smile, she too watching the scuffle. "It doesn't matter how much he tries to tell everyone that he's just listening to Morrigan and trying to be friends with the girl. I can see that he's enjoying himself beyond that." Cyric laughed as Eireach found his way to the ground again and didn't envy how sore the man's bottom would be tomorrow.

"Well…he seems to be enjoying himself far more than she does." A thud and an outraged shout told him that Sorsha had once again joined Eireach in the dirt. "Why don't we take their example and start training as well, my love?" The look in his wife's amused amber eyes told him that if he took too much example from the two currently wrestling in the dirt, he would no longer be sparring with his sweet 'love'.

As they took their stances, he couldn't help the quick twinge of pride he felt as he looked at his wife. Jeaule had settled on dual blades after several trials with other weapons and Cyric couldn't deny that she was a little fireball when they were in her hands. Even Sorsha commented that Jeaule could overtake him in technique if Cyric wasn't diligent in his training. He liked to think that Sorsha had only said that to boost Jeaule's belief in herself, but as she got into her inside stance, he knew that she was a natural sword fighter.

She parried his first attack with the ease of batting a fly out of her way. He tested her a few more times, not wanting to go too hard on her, but seeing the defiance in her eyes that warned him not to treat her like a little crystal doll. When he continued to go rather easy on her, his wife showed him what she could do with those long, lithe arms of hers. The first swipe took him completely off guard, but he was able to block the sword before it landed a blow on his shoulder.

After that, she came in a series of spinning thrusts that shocked him. Cyric grudgingly admitted that his deceptively innocent wife must have been taking some private lessons with their inexhaustible general. She only proved his theory when she nearly disarmed him using Sorsha's personalized four step attack.

"You're doing so well, Jeaule," he heard from behind him, turning to see the source of his wife's astonishing new talents. Sorsha was banged up and covered in a decent layer of dirt, but her smile at watching Jeaule was a honest as he'd ever seen. She walked through the slight, but odd limp Eireach had given her on her last trip to the ground and came to move Jeaule's arms slightly higher. "Remember with this series of thrusts that you have to keep your guard just a little higher than normal to make up for the lower thrusts." Cyric watched with supreme amusement as his wife nodded, intent in her mini lesson.

"She must be your favorite student," Eireach said, coming over as well. Sorsha smirked, her only agreement as her adjusted Jeaule's arms once more.

"Do you have a death wish my friend?" Cyric asked Eireach, who smiled devilishly at him before waving Jareth and Sarah over.

"I was actually invited by her supreme dragoness herself." Sorsha frowned at the new title Eireach had bestowed upon her, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at the edge of her lips. That tussle must have worked some of the shyness out of her.

"Oh really?" Jeaule asked, intrigued that Sorsha would intentionally invite Eireach into any conversation.

"We need everyone's input for my idea," Sorsha had all eyes on her as Jareth and Sarah joined them.

"What's the idea?"

"We need to distract them away from thinking we will attack by having a party the night before." There was a flurry of unenthusiastic mumbling from everyone at that.

Everyone but Jareth.

Sorsha gave him a guarded, hopeful look and something dark clouded the Goblin King's eyes. Cyric hoped to the gods that Sorsha hadn't said something to make Jareth upset at her again, but the resentment that fired in his eyes wasn't aimed at her.

"It's a good plan," he said finally. "It's worked before." Sorsha winced at that as if she'd known it to be coming. Realization finally dawned over Jeaule and she gave a little squeal of understanding.

"Oh Sorsha…" But Sorsha waved her off.

"My father told Medb to do this, yes I know." The dark glaze over Jareth's eyes cleared.

"Yes, we didn't expect anything at all, but since she had just thrown such a lavish party, we REALLY didn't expect her to attack that day." Jareth placed a hand on Sorsha's shoulder, letting her know in his silent way that he wasn't upset with her. "We let many guards and soldiers have the day with their family." There was a pain in Jareth's voice that wasn't for the father that had died that day, but for the kingdom that they'd almost lost because of the traitor they'd found in General Kael. "If it wasn't for their training and quick response, we'd have lost the Goblin Kingdom that day."

"But we have to make sure that no one drinks at the party," Cyric said, accepting the plan with that sentence. Sorsha smirked at him, a wickedly anxious smile that was reflected on the faces of everyone in their circle.

"Oh, I promise you, if any of my men…or women," she added with a smile at Jeaule, "drink that night, they'll answer to me."

**(A/N: This time I wish you all a Happy New Year! Hope you all made resolutions worth keeping this year. I know I promised myself never to let this story skip a week again ever…barring something terrible happening of course. LOL Anyways, hope you guys liked the chapter and are looking forward to the next. I thought I would leave it on less of a cliffhanger this time since that seems to give a few people heart palpitations. LOL I love those reviews though…because it's the exact emotion I wanted!!! LOL Much love to all of those who put up with me. **

**The reviewers who were kind enough to walk through their cliffhanger blues to give me a review were: **

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Eternal Eyes, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, Miru88, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit and Silent'Saki.**

**Love you guys and hope all is well!)**


	8. Fighting as Foreplay

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Jeaule** twisted and turned her body in all the cautiously offensive ways that Sorsha had shone her. She'd found herself a few silent…and very solitary…moments to practice in her own room. The wooden pillar that she'd conjured was scored deeply where her blades were steadily cutting away at it. Sweat was starting to bead on her forehead and she simply took that as a sign that she was working as hard as she'd wanted to.

No one had expected her to dive into this they way that she did. Not even Cyric, she thought with a pleased grin as she brought her sword down in a sharp arch. Sure, he'd given in to letting her learn, but she was sure that while he loved her deeply, he'd merely thought that she would give up when she found that it was actual work. Well, she'd surprised him now hadn't she?

Soft clapping from the doorway let her know that she'd allowed the time to get away from her, "Brilliant, my love." Cyric stood in the doorway, watching her with loving pride in his eyes. She felt her cheeks heat, amazed that he could still make her blush.

"Yeah…thanks." She gave a crooked smile as she got rid of the pillar and the carpet of wood chips and shavings at her feet. As Cyric crossed the room to her, she watched the light and shadows in the room dance over his face, lighting those pale blue eyes that always made her heart flutter.

"Have I told you how proud of you I am?" Jeaule laughed nervously, knowing that he was proud of her, but wondering if that was all that was on his mind. She recognized that gleam in his eyes made her pulse skip with an anxious sensuality. "It's quite a turn on to think you could kick my butt into the dirt." The nerves were gone as the laughter suddenly burst from her.

"I could try." He slipped his arms around her lithe frame and smiled at her.

"You keep practicing like that and you will take me down sooner than you think." She rested herself against the soothing warmth of his chest, letting her heart fall into pace with his.

"Yeah, well…you'll look good covered in dirt." His chest rumbled delightedly under her cheek and brought a smirk to her own lips.

"Don't bruise me up too badly though, that wouldn't be good for my ego." Jeaule pulled back from him and rolled her eyes as she placed a hand on her hip. Looking him up and down quickly, she gave him and cheeky smile.

"Oh, but if I did, I would have to nurse you back to health." That sparkle was back in his eyes at that and her reached out for her again, but she danced just out of his reach.

"Hmm, that might be worth a few bruises. Just promise to give me a bruise that clothing can cover. Then I can have the best of both worlds." His ego was adorably astounding at times.

"Yes, I agree, we can't have you all bruised up at the party now can we?" He groaned. Jeaule knew that he wasn't looking forward to the party. Cyric wasn't one for big glamorous parties, but a man who was happy with a quiet, intimate night with herself.

"I'm not looking forward to all that…fuss," he told her, as much as she'd expected him to, but a second later, there was a defiant little grin where the frown had just been. "Did you invite Damien like we all discussed?" She laughed, amazed at how quickly his moods could flip when it came to Damien.

"Yes, but just like we all imagined, he didn't even dignify it with a response." A gentle knock on the door distracted them both as they called out for the person to enter. When the door creaked open a bit, it was Kessy's golden blonde head that poked through.

"I'm not disrupting your Majesties am I?" Everyone seemed a bit put off by Kessy's meek demeanor, but Jeaule was able to handle it, knowing that she'd been exactly like the poor timid little mouse at one time.

"No, not at all Kessy, please do what you need to," Jeaule said, smiling, trying to let the girl know without coddling her, that she had nothing to fear from her. Kessy didn't seem to pick up the hint and merely went about her business. Jeaule sighed and turned back to her husband, who was one of the people in the castle that didn't quite know how to handle Kessy's attitude. "None of us expected him to come."

"What? Oh, Damien." He silenced himself when he noticed Kessy jerk at the name. "We'll talk about this later," he said, motioning to Kessy who turned to them looking abashed.

"You needn't stop on my account, sire." Her eyes were wide, worried that she'd done something very wrong. "I didn't mean to jump it's just…." She trailed off, embarrassed. Cyric shrugged, uncomfortable with the mortified maid.

"Well, I have a hard time trust people outside of my circle with information like this." Kessy crossed to them, her hand at her heart.

"Sire…" she started on a sigh, "you saved me and my entire family from Damien's rule, from his infertile lands and harsh taxing. You know he took almost everything that we were able to force his lands to give us?" Tears welled in her eyes and touched Jeaule. The poor girl had been through far more than she should ever have had to. "He left my family with the worst of the harvest and decided that we would be able to live on that." Jeaule frowned, confused with something.

"Couldn't you just have used-"

"Magic?" Kessy finished for her with an odd twinge in her voice. "We could have, but my parents are both too sickly to even leave their beds and aren't able to and I'm well…I'm not very adept." The strawberry blush rushed over her cheeks as she rushed on. "That's why I wanted to come here and help in the castle. I'm very good at cleaning and helping heal others, but not very adept at much else." Jeaule smiled at her and hoped that Kessy would begin to realize that not everyone was against her. She wasn't sure if the point got across even now, but Kessy smiled as she left the room.

"I don't know how to handle that girl," Cyric sighed, it seemed like Kessy almost exhausted him in her mildness. Jeaule admitted that it could be draining on someone who was used to stronger women, but she had LIVED as the weakling most of her life. Cyric had met her after she'd found herself, he'd never dealt with the sad whipping stone she'd been for her sister all those years.

That was all for the better, Jeaule reflected as she brought Kessy's quiet demeanor to mind. If that's what she used to be like, which she had to grudgingly admit she had been, she was glad that Cyric had never seen her. If he had, she thought with an inner chuckle, she might not be his Queen now.

**Sorsha** was seated at one of the long, wooden tables that had been situated in the main dining hall to accommodate the growing number of soldiers they were accruing. The light was filtering through the stained glass windows in brilliant shimmering beams of emerald, ruby and sapphire. The hall had proven to her that there was enough light…and enough silence when it wasn't a set meal time…to give her space to think. It had been nearly a month since they'd started training and at her last count, Sorsha had been astonished to find that they had nearly a thousand able and willing soldiers ready to fight. She would be sure to use every one of them to their top potential be it archer, foot soldier or mounted attack.

Next to her plate of breakfast was a map of the known Underground. There were two places she was sure she would set up camps for separate troops and those were Neerad in the west of Easternlands…gods they really needed to name this place…and Goblin's Claw where the Goblin Kingdom hooked into the Easternlands. She knew that Goblin's Claw would be expected as it had been the site of many historic battles. All she could hope for was that her troops would get there first to take the advantage of higher ground.

As she grabbed a piece of bacon with one hand as her other roamed over the map, thinking of where she could come up from the south in the Goblin Kingdom. Damien wouldn't be expecting that, she thought with a wicked little grin. Tornum might be the best place, though they would have to be careful sneaking into the Westernlands. But the forests outside of the town would be a good place to hide a decently sized troop. She wasn't able to celebrate her choice of base sites because the voice from behind her summarily caused her stomach to clench nervously and her eyes to roll of their own accord.

"Are you always dirt smudged?" Eireach, of course, who else would be bothering her during breakfast? She looked down at her hands and begrudgingly admitted that he had a point, she was nearly always dirt smudged, but she didn't have time to pretty herself up when she was preparing for a war.

Refusing to give him the benefit of seeing the irritation in her eyes, she kept her eyes on the map and picked up another piece of bacon, "Are you always so critical of other people's appearances?" She had hoped that her sharp tongue would make him go away, but it seemed lately that he had developed immunity to it. Sorsha didn't have to look at him to know that there was a jeering smile on his face as he straddled the bench next to her and grabbed the last piece of bacon from her plate.

"Mmm," he moaned in over zealous pleasure at the bacon. "The cook outdid herself this morning, maple flavored."

"Then get your own," she muttered, silently irked that he'd taken her last piece. He took her advice and called a goblin over to take his order down to the cook. She tried desperately to ignore him, but he just sat there, looking over at her and the map in turn, silent…waiting for HER to talk to HIM. Finally, she'd had enough and smacked a hand down on the open map before her. "Why do you insist on bothering me?"

His eyes caught hers, bewildered amusement on his face, "I didn't realize that I was." Adamant refusal to accept what he was doing…that was always his answer. Sorsha rolled her shoulders, trying to work the aggravation from her muscles.

"Well, you're very good at it regardless." His laughter rang through her and she damned herself for the shiver it caused. A goblin sidled up to them with Eireach's breakfast.

"Well then," he said as he situated his plate before himself. "Perhaps it's my subconscious that enjoys ruffling your feathers." When she raised her eyes from the map this time, she was surprisingly touched to see that he had placed one of his own pieces of bacon on her plate. She didn't want to admit to even herself that such a silly gesture had touched her…that was foolish, so she pulled her frustration back around herself like a comforting blanket.

"Go ruffle your own feathers," she mumbled before she bit into the piece of bacon. Eireach smirked over at her again as he followed her example and devoured the bacon.

"And miss out on your delightful company?" he chided her, an impish grin on his lips. "Never." She pushed her plate back and rolled the map up, shoving it under her arm.

"I think I'm done here." Sorsha pushed back the bench they sat on, pulling Eireach out of reach of the eggs on his fork. And yet he still laughed good humouredly as the eggs fell into his lap…it was infuriating.

"See you in a few minutes then," he called to her back. Her brows furrowed in confusion and exasperation as she turned back to him. "Practice," he told her, taking a defiant bite of eggs. "You can't avoid your own partner there." She groaned and to the sound of his laughter, walked out of the dining hall.

**Damien** was completely fed up with sheltering that know-it-all demoness who was trying to fashion herself as his partner. Kindraa was insinuating herself into every aspect of his castle and its workings. She had even gone so far as to change his menus and had taken to picking out his clothing. In the short time she'd been in the castle, she'd completely taken over his life and he didn't like it. When he walked into his rooms that day, he was shocked to find that he hadn't reached the limits of his anger.

"What in the HELLS do you think you're doing now!?" He shouted at the figure across the room who was sitting at his jewel coffer. Kindraa was reaching into the large mahogany coffer with her overlong fingers. When she pulled out his favorite diamond ring he gave a strangled little cry.

"I do so enjoy your jewelry, Damien." A deceptively delicate blue flame appeared as she snapped her fingers. He was mesmerized by the dancing blue flame for only a moment before she set the band of his prized ring in it and he watched the metal melt like wax. Again he cried out, but in desperate agony this time as she used her frightening strength to bend the material into a smaller circle that he was sure would never fit around his fingers again. The flame dulled as she sealed the band and slipped it onto her finger. "I REALLY enjoy it."

He didn't hear her, his eyes were on the cooling molten metal on the rug at her feet, "My ring…."

"Yes," her voice rang mockingly in his ear. "It's quite beautiful, much better on a woman's hand." He sighed and kept his distance from her.

It had been made very obvious from the moment that she showed up that he would never win an argument against her. Honestly, he thought as forcibly pushed the ring from his mind, he didn't want to fight with her. Memories of dangling by his throat with her lengthy fingers cutting off his air were enough motivation to simply let her have the damned ring.

"Anything else you wish to whine about today, my dear?" He cringed at the endearment she'd taken to using on him. Damien was sure that she insisted on doing that because it 'made him squirm', but he couldn't help it. Would anyone be able to keep composure around a creature like Kindraa? Damien doubted it. "Stop wandering in that wasteland you call a mind…is there anything else you wish to say to me?"

"Well," Damien started, hesitant to bring up the one thing that HAD been on his mind lately.

"Damien, out with it." Kindraa was advancing on him. What a pathetic thought, Damien mused, but there was no other word appropriate for how the woman made him feel. "I am a chaos demon, I see the paths of all creatures. I already know what you want to ask me." There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes that set him even further on edge.

She knew what he wanted to ask and she was already upset with him for it. So what was he supposed to do now? If he asked the question she already knew, it might stoke the startling fire that was already building there. But if he didn't ask it, he would prove himself even weaker than he already had. Steeling his back, he decided not to sacrifice any more of his dignity than he already had, not on this at least.

"I was wondering if I was ever going to hear from your supposed contact in the Easternlands?" He couldn't bring himself to say 'Cyric's castle' for that would be admitting, even if only to himself, that his childhood foe had gained something that Damien had worked very hard to keep him from.

When his question was met without an answer, his eyes sought to find Kindraa. She was no longer moving towards him, perhaps his choice to ask her was the right one…the wrong one? Either way, she wasn't in front of him anymore, but had moved back to his jewelry coffer. She was ignoring him, he realized with a pang of incredulity. Damien wasn't sure if this upset him or not, but was sure that seeing those fingers sifting through his precious jewelry again didn't settle well with him at all.

"Kindraa?" Her eyes flitted to him as if she'd just noticed him there, blinking in silent inquiry to what he wanted. He hated it when she did that, like he hadn't existed the whole time they'd been talking, but he had learned that this is what she did when she didn't WANT to answer him. Well he was tired of being treated like some second rate servant that should remain silent in her magnanimous presence. "When will I hear from the source you promised me?"

"Do shut up Damien," she warned, her voice liquid fire. "You don't want me to wonder if you trust me." Damien sighed, tired of skirting the topic.

"What else am I supposed to think when I haven't heard a thing and you won't talk about it?" She turned to him and was again advancing like a predator to its prey. Her body moved like the flames she controlled, in gentle swaying confidence.

"My girl is there and trusted." He found himself unable to ask who the girl was, his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. "Still no one suspects her and she has the support of a very powerful woman." Kindraa paused, letting her fiery eyes bore into his own. "And THAT will be enough for you to know until she contacts us."

**Eireach** walked out onto the training field once he was done with his breakfast. He hadn't wanted the breakfast really, but, he admitted to himself, it had been an excuse to bother her again. His task for Morrigan had become something that he actually looked forward to doing. The only thing that he had to do was figure out exactly why he had so much fun making Sorsha uncomfortable.

"Took you long enough," a voice chided from behind him. Sorsha tossed the sword at him when he turned to her and he nearly dropped it.

"I was enjoying my breakfast." Before Sorsha was able to make a snappy remark, Cyric called out to everyone and commenced the training day. "Shall we?" Eireach asked, bowing and gesturing her to their normal spot on the field. He smiled as she set her jaw and breezed past him. Gods help him, he found it cute. Before he completely lost his damn mind, he fell into the motions of their training.

"Why do you seem so confident when you fight me?" He asked, not sure why he did. She smiled at him as she jabbed at him with the wooden sword which he blocked easily.

"Because I have the support of a goddess." Her smile was mocking when he came at her again. "Do you really think she'd let you hurt me?" He simply smiled at her as he once again fell into their normal routine.

It was never difficult for either of them as they'd found that they were very nearly equally trained. It had frustrated Sorsha to no end to find out that he was an extremely competent sword fighter. Eireach was just happy that she didn't suggest changing the weapons up…he wasn't very apt at anything but a long sword and a bow and arrow.

Laughter drew both of their attentions away from each other and over to Cyric and Jeaule. The two were deep into their sparring session, further than they'd gone before. Jeaule's face was set in lines of concentration as she came at Cyric in a flurry of spinning blades. Eireach had no idea what Cyric had said, but whatever had set the rebel spark in her eyes, Cyric had better stay on his toes or he would end up on his ass.

Almost as he thought it, Jeaule spun out a leg just the way Sorsha had when they'd had their scuffle a few weeks back and Cyric plummeted to the ground with a thud. Never one to be showed up, Cyric's own leg whipped out as a triumphant smile crossed Jeaule's face, distracting her. Her tumble to the ground was by far less graceful than Cyric's had been and her indignant shout sounded out as her husband climbed on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

Eireach looked to Sorsha and for the first time, they shared a laugh. He knew that Sorsha was proud of her student, but didn't know why the shock caused her face to fall until he looked back to the King and Queen. Cyric might have taken his queen by surprise, but that hadn't stopped her in the end for they were kissing in the dirt as if it were their feather filled bed.

"Hmm," he stated as if this weren't surprising as it was. "Fighting as foreplay…not what I would have suspected of THOSE two." Sorsha's brow winged upwards at that before she guarded against his first strike.

"Who would you have suspected it of?" He set himself to guard against her lightning quick offensive strike.

"Well," he started before their swords thudded against one another again. "Someone more like…" The swords clashed again and again in their dizzying dance of attacks and parries, "…you." Their swords locked, their faces mere inches from each other, Sorsha's a mask of bewilderment. Astonishment took him over as he watched the blush spread over her cheeks. "Gods…" the flush was gone as he said it, the normal frown back in place. "I got you to blush!"

"Shut up," she snapped and she came at him again with a downward, over the head strike that made his arms shudder when he blocked it.

"You know, you're really quite fetching when you blush, you should do it more often." He knew he should stop, but that damned blush inched over her face again and he couldn't help it. He hadn't lied, she was appealing when she showed that weakness of hers. But his distraction was his downfall, she whipped her sword in a sharp circle and disarmed him.

Normally, that would signal the end of the match and they would rearm themselves, but his laughter goaded her further and she tossed her weapon aside to charge him. That made him smile all the further. With a sword in her hand, yes, she could probably beat him anyday, but brawn against brawn…he felt he had the edge.

Maybe.

He thanked the gods that Sorsha was enough of a tomboy not to have long fingernails on the claws that scrapped for a hold in his skin. Eireach simply couldn't believe that he'd actually succeeded in embarrassing her for the first time and nearly toppled over when she threw her full weight at him. Staring down at her with a challenging smile on his lips, he decided that if she wanted a fight, she'd get one.

Eireach bent and scooped the harpy up into his arms, realizing too late that her squirming body and pummeling fists might make that a bit difficult. He'd only made it a few steps before she wrenched her body the right way in his arms and sent them both tumbling backwards to the ground. Sorsha had the advantage for but a moment before he rolled his weight over on top of hers.

It wasn't until this moment that both of them realized just what had taken place. His own words came back to haunt him as her body, strong and supple beneath his, went still. Be it from shock or…something else…he wasn't sure, but the surrender was mind boggling.

Her face, mere inches from his again and deliciously flushed looked just as confused as he did. Again his own words flowed through his head before he jumped up from her body and offered her a hand.

Fighting as foreplay.

**(A/N: Another chapter down and I hope that you all liked seeing Damien and Kindraa again. I know that so many of you have a great love/hate view on those two and I know that I do too! LOL Random note…watching 'Hook' as I finish this up and it never ceases to amaze me how much I love this movie. "I've just had an apostrophe." "I think you mean an epiphany." LOL oh wow…ok I'm done. **

**Those who gave me the apostrophe to add a bit more of Damien and Kindraa because I know you love them were: **

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, Miru88, notwritten and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys, much love!!)**


	9. Breakdown at the Gala

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Jeaule** was straightening the collar of Cyric's deep cream colored jacket, smiling as she admired the delicate amber dyed embroidery that he told her matched her eyes perfectly. Though, she wasn't mooning over her eyes as the setting sun gave everything in the room new life with a rainbow of pinks and oranges…even her husband. And that, she smiled, was what she was mooning over. The color of the jacket was perfect against his milk chocolate skin, she decided with an ensuring nod of her head.

"I don't think that he's going to get any more beautiful by straightening that jacket." Jareth's dryly teasing tone rang from behind her and lit Cyric's eyes with a sparkling adoration that was only for her. She smiled as he leaned down for a quick, sound kiss.

"Perhaps Sarah should try it on you, old man. It might help," Cyric ribbed his friend right back over Jeaule's shoulder. From her spot at Jareth's side, Sarah's brow quirked.

"You think it might?" The look of abject horror and insult pulled at Jareth's face as he stared at his wife.

"He was joking, love." Jareth said lightly, disbelief in his voice. Jeaule commended Sarah for keeping a straight face as she ran her fingers along Jareth's deep royal blue jacket that matched the color of her floor length, flowing dress to perfection.

"No," she sighed, causing Jareth's jaw to drop.

"Of all the-" Jareth never finished for Sarah smiled and silenced him with the pressure of her lips. Jeaule and Cyric stifled a chuckle as understanding of the joke registered in Jareth's eyes. "So," he started, to change the subject, when Sarah released him. "Is it time to start this deception of Sorsha's?" Jareth wrapped an arm around his wife, his hand resting protectively…and unconsciously…over her stomach. Sarah groaned, but not for her husband's unconscious action, for there had been a grin on her face, but for the dinner to come.

"What's wrong…?" Jeaule asked with a serene smile on her face, for she knew what the answer would be before it came from those pursed lips.

"I'm going to have to deal with all that damned silverware again!" All four shared their laughter as they made their way to the highly polished main dining hall. Jeaule thanked the gods that Sarah, with her eye for decoration, had been there to help her. She had been around Maesia long enough to know what she was doing, but it was a joy to work with Sarah's discerning tastes.

Sarah had figured, considering the dazzle of color the room already claimed in the high, stained glass windows, that the decorations should stick to delicate silver, gold and crystal. Jeaule could see the way the torch light she'd decided on would glitter ethereally off all the tables and was pleased when her vision echoed in the dining room before her.

Eireach was already sitting there, waiting for the royal couples; his hair offset by a finely tailored jacket the same color as his eyes. Like Cyric and Jareth, he wore a simple, delicately woven white under-shirt and black pants stitched in the color of their dress jackets. And while the elaborate stitching on both her husband's jacket and Jareth's matched the color of their wives eyes, Eireach's was a deep, dark gold that nearly echoed the color of rich earth.

"I wasn't sure you four were going to show up," he smirked as they took their seats at the main table with him. "Sorsha not with you?" Jeaule smirked over at Sarah, understanding, even if Eireach didn't, the reason for the color of his embroidery.

"Don't worry Romeo," she heard Cyric say as he clapped Eireach on the back. "She'll be here soon. She's probably trying to find something that isn't stained or scarred by training." Jeaule smacked him on the back of the head for his repulsive lack of tact, even if it was with friends.

"I'd be surprised if she comes at all," Eireach said, tapping his fingers on the fine, silk table coverings. "She's been avoiding me since that training session." Jeaule nodded, no one needed to ask WHICH training session. She scanned her memory of the last two weeks and how Sorsha had made herself near impossible to find unless there was training to be done or war to be discussed.

"She'll come, her sense of honor wouldn't let her keep herself from this." Jeaule wasn't completely confident, but she didn't have to rest on the surety of her words for Sorsha entered at that moment. Her face was set in hard lines that told the story of her nerves more assuredly than any words could have. Though, Jeaule mused, trying to find a positive, Sorsha cleaned up far better than any of them could have suspected.

She wasn't in a dress, Jeaule hadn't expected her to be, but the dark chocolate leather pants she wore held no scars of training or wear. It was her top that had surprised both herself and Sarah into pleased smiles. The finely tailored corset top fit to her torso like a dream and showed off a body that none of them had expected to see. Opalescent, gauzy sleeves waved down from her upper arm, seeming to hover at her sides like delicate clouds. But it was the color of this top that amused her the most…though now that Sorsha had seen Eireach, she appeared both surprised and irritated by her choice…it was a beautiful jade green.

"Speak of the devil," Eireach said with a grin that didn't echo in Sorsha's eyes.

"Let's get this over with." That was all she said as she sat herself in the far right seat of the high table. The others took their spots, troubled by Sorsha's preternatural quietness. The two royal couples sat in the middle, the Queens at their right hands, and Eireach sat in the final chair to the far left of the table.

Jeaule tried to calm herself for what was to come. Eireach and Sorsha, when they had still been talking…sort of…had come up with this change in tradition for the royal couples to be there before the guests so they could look upon their magnanimousness while they settled themselves. Jeaule thought back to the near painful laughter she and Sarah had fallen into at that and smiled again as the first of the guests arrived.

Jeaule had invited everyone who supported them, so nearly everyone in the Underground. Lords and Ladies filed into the delicately torch lit dining room and took their seats at the tables gilded in sparkling silvers and gold. Lord Baldric and Lady Adelaide, whom she'd last seen when she'd seated them at Jareth and Sarah's engagement dinner, entered in an obnoxious swirl of rainbow colors that made her eyes water. Lady Adelaide, she thought with strained admiration, had never been a stylish one and she'd spun her husband up in her frightening whirlwind of color faux pas.

When the room was nearly full and there was a pleasant buzz of noise humming through the high rafters of the room, Jeaule caught sight of the honey haired Lady Irelen with her husband, Lord Isriam, smiling pleasantly beside her. Jeaule had always loved watching those two together; there was something so peaceful between them. The adoration was clear in their eyes when they looked at each other and Jeaule had always dreamed of finding someone to love her as much as that. She squeezed her husband's hand, knowing that her dream had come true…as corny as that sounded.

The lovely purr in her blood came to an end when she felt Sarah's fingers grip at her arm from across her husband. She was about to ask what the problem was when Sarah's green eyes glanced down the table behind Jeaule to Sorsha. Jeaule watched as Sorsha's suddenly pale face flushed with anger. What could have brought that reaction from her…? Eireach was sitting at the other side of the table, but when Jeaule looked, she saw his eyes were on Sorsha too. It wasn't him who'd upset their general.

Jeaule let her gaze drift to where Sorsha was glaring daggers. Sorsha's knuckles whitened and Jeaule's brow knotted as they both watched Lady Irelen cross the room. As was custom, she and her husband approached the high table to bow to the royal couples. Jeaule's breath caught in her chest as she watched the erratic rise and fall of Sorsha's chest and her normally simple brown eyes glaze with anger coated pain that lit them like fired earth. Lady Irelen's smile was brilliant as she stood back up from her elegant bow, but Jeaule kept her gaze on those wide, up-tilted doe eyes.

Lady Irelen bowed her head respectfully to Eireach and scanned down the table, murmuring thanks and inclining her head as was called for, the torchlight swimming orange through her honey hair. But when those soulful doe eyes caught Sorsha's fire filled brown ones, her creamy cheeks flushed violently and she dragged her husband to their seats without a nod for Sorsha.

Jeaule shifted in her chair, trying to look past Cyric to talk to Sorsha, but she wasn't given the chance. Sorsha pushed back from the table, frighteningly quiet and composed. Where Jeaule had expected something to fly across the dining hall from the look in Sorsha's eyes, she was surprised when the girl merely walked calmly through the side door.

"I'll be right back," Jeaule whispered to Cyric, pushing her chair back to follow Sorsha. A hand on her arm stilled her.

"I don't think she'll need you." Her brow furrowed at her husband's words, but understood when Eireach passed behind them and followed, just as silently, through the door in Sorsha's wake.

**Sorsha** had been nearly sure that the woman would be there, but actually seeing her, after all this time, had nearly caused her heart to stop. The crush of seeing those eyes, that honey hair…it was all so overwhelming. The last time she'd seen Lady Irelen had been, she learned later, the night her father had decided to work for Medb. It had been at one of Maesia's annual Christmas banquets.

That banquet had been the last that poor Jeaule's mother had ever worked for she'd died during the siege on the castle that Sorsha's own father had initiated. Sorsha often wondered how Jeaule could forgive her of that, until she realized what Jeaule herself would have told her anyways. It wasn't HER fault her father was a bastard.

Lady Irelen had reacted much the same way to her that night as she had just moments ago, but Sorsha wished desperately that she herself had changed. She wished she had, then she wouldn't have embarrassed herself by storming out of the room like a moody child. Yes, she'd thrown her share of fits since she'd arrived, but those were mostly because of Eireach and those were justified.

Or at least they were to her.

As she stormed her way down the dimly lit hallway, she didn't hear the steady footsteps of someone following her…and catching up. The only thing on her mind was her sudden realization that regardless the reason for her previous tantrums, it was just as pathetic as storming out of the room because of….

A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her wits. She spun on her heel without thinking and flung a balled fist out at her assaulter. Her hand was caught inches from the startled face it had been flying towards.

"Eireach…" a flush crossed her cheeks, mortified that she'd almost socked him for no real reason. She wrenched her hand from him, unable to deny she was impressed that he'd caught it in the first place.

"Are you okay?" The worry in his voice put her on edge. She didn't want anyone's sympathy, didn't want to break down in front of anyone. Especially not in front of Eireach.

"I'm fine," she said simply, not desiring a scene when she'd just decided not to throw tantrums anymore, but she could feel the pressure of a good cry building in her chest. She turned away from him and started walking off again, needing to get away from him before she broke.

"I don't think you are." His voice wasn't demanding behind her, it was concerned and that made it even worse. Falling back on old habits, she steeled her back and turned back to him, hoping that the fire in her eyes would make him leave her alone before she drowned the fire with tears.

"Look, you're the LAST person I want to be talking to right now, just go away." Annoyingly, he took a step forward instead of a step back.

"Why?" The concern was still there, he cared about it and that terrified her.

"It's not important, just go back to that dinner and don't worry about it." Even as she said it, something within her was clawing to tell him, to let the tears out and take the comfort she knew Eireach would give if she did. She'd never let go of the stranglehold she had on her emotions, never had anyone who cared enough to want her to. That's why the concern in his eyes had her mind and heart at odds with each other.

**Despite** himself, he stayed. Even he wasn't sure why he didn't just turn around and leave as she asked him, but he was nearly positive it had something to do with the sadness and the anger swimming together in eyes that were pleading him to leave and stay at the same time. It was obvious that the poor thing was more confused about what to do than he was, so he took the decision from her by pulling her into the circle of his arms.

She stiffened in his arms at the unease of the closeness. He'd expected that, just as he'd expected her to try to pull away from him, but what he'd seen in those eyes kept his arms around her. If she'd wanted to get away from him, she would have, he knew that. The fight she was giving him right now was merely for her own ego, so she could say she'd attempted it.

But after only a weak attempt at freedom, he felt something he had never thought he would. In his arms, she'd stilled, but it wasn't into the stiffness of the first embrace, Sorsha had gone limp in his arms. The surrender he felt in the muscles of her body shocked him completely. He was sure if he let her go, she would merely fall to the floor. His heart clenched, surprising him with the strength of its pull for the suddenly amiable woman in his arms.

Now, the only thing that frightened him was what he would see if he looked down at Sorsha. He wouldn't know what to do if he looked down and saw tears in the eyes of such a strong woman. Never would he thought of strong, stubborn Sorsha in tears…especially not in his arms. It took effort, but he lowered his eyes to her face, silent streaks streamed down her cheeks.

His hand came up to brush over hair that was still pulled back in its proper bun and his mind wandered, wondering what it looked like out of that bun. A heavy sigh against his chest brought his attention back to the anomaly of emotion coming from the woman in his arms.

"I haven't seen her since I was a child." Her voice was quiet and shaky, not at all the snarky way he remembered it. Something had broken within her and he found himself wanting to know what it was.

"Lady Irelen?" He felt a huff from and looked down into 'who-else?' eyes. "Who is she then?" he asked, a hint of the old teasing in his voice that he was pleased brought a smirk to her lips. The first he'd ever pulled out. "Well, better late than never," he smiled, wiping at a tear on her face.

"She's my mother." It was said so simply and flatly, he knew there was no love between the two.

"Lady Irelen was possessed by Kindraa?" Sorsha nodded weakly.

"Kindraa, or the piece of her within my mother, made her join with my father. The woman underneath the possession had no love for Kael. Once she gave birth to me, she decided she didn't want to help Kindraa anymore and the bit of her was expelled from my mother. That's when she left us." That was pretty much the story he'd expected. He'd known that her mother had left shortly after giving birth to Sorsha, most everyone knew that. "I know that my father was no prize, but she didn't even care enough about me to take me away from that awful man. I guess I've never forgiven her for choosing a nobleman over me."

"Ah," he said shortly. "She left you two for a nobleman." Again she nodded and understanding flooded through him. "So that's why you hate me," he joked, trying to get that tiniest of smiles back on her face. At least now he understood why she held such a banner of anger against noblemen, but it gave him more reason to prove her wrong.

"I don't HATE you…" she said quietly, still making no effort to pull from his arms.

"Could have fooled me."

**(A/N: Another chapter down. Glad you're all still enjoying yourselves!! I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter, I injured my back and wasn't able to sit in that silly computer chair much. sigh Sorry guys, but I made sure to get this out to you so I didn't feel bad. LOL**

**Those who reviewed last week and gave me something to smile about through the cold were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, EternalEyes, Kerichi, notwritten, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**Thanks guys and happy reading!!)**


	10. The War Begins

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**The** morning after the gala, Sorsha was up with the first fragile beams of the sun to prepare for the jump to Tornum. From there, they would have the concealment of a mountain and a lake to keep Damien from realizing they were coming. It would be an epic undertaking, she thought as she pushed a stray strand of her hair back into its bun. First, the ground troops, she hesitated to call them the grunts, but that's what they were, would teleport to Tornum, southeast of Damien's castle. They would be in charge of organizing, with Jeaule and Eireach's help, the supplies that were teleported, in bulk, to the site.

Once that was completed, the mounted soldiers would take themselves and their horses, an impressive feat, but one she'd been training them to do since she'd come up with the plan. She was secure enough in their abilities to know they'd arrive with their horses in one piece. Then and only then would she, Cyric, Jeaule and Jareth head to Tornum as well.

Sarah had wanted to go, but understood that she wouldn't be able to. They hadn't been able to teleport to the Easternlands because of potential dangers to the baby and it was no different now. Both royal couples had spent the night treating each other like gold. It was understandable…war was a fickle mistress and there was no guarantee that any of them would be coming back safe.

Sorsha hadn't known what to do with the love in their eyes. It had appalled her to realize that it had brought on tears, tears that she refused to release for something she was sure she'd never have herself. Last night, she'd finally rid herself of the tears and weakness, most of it, she cringed at the memory, on Eireach's shoulder. Wishing not to think of it further, she hefted a pack of medical supplies from the pile, making sure the Healers had only packed the necessary field dressings as she'd clearly instructed.

"Shock of shocks," she murmured to herself as she dropped half of the contents of the pack into the dirt. Foolish Healers, she grumbled, repacking the NECESSARY numbing creams and gauzy wrappings. She also repacked the stitching kits, knowing that some of the soldiers wouldn't heed their surroundings in battle. There was sure to be at least a score of deep gashes. And a few deaths, she admitted with a sickening tug in her belly, but that was the cost of war…no matter how foolish.

Wearily, she eyed the rest of the packs, not desiring to repack each and every one of them. Why couldn't the Healers simply listen instead of making extra work for everyone else? Didn't they realize the amount of magic it would have taken to teleport the heavily laden packs they'd tried to sneak through? With a rush of relief, Sorsha spotted Kessandra walking from the castle with a satchel on her back, full of extra padding for the soldier's armor.

"Kessy!" The girl jumped at the sound of her own name and turned to Sorsha with wary eyes.

"OH! My lady!" She exclaimed, giving Sorsha a hasty curtsy. Sorsha gallantly hid the grimace and refrained from correcting the girl. She'd far from earned that title yet. "What can I do for you, lady?" Kessy asked when Sorsha said nothing.

"I need you to reorganize all these packs, identical to this one," Sorsha told her, lifting the pack she still held in her hands. She noted Kessy's pained expression as she looked on the pile. "Not an engaging task, I know," she said apologetically, "but an important one. We wouldn't be able to teleport the lot of them to Tornum packed as they are now."

"Yes, my lady," Kessy replied easily, taking the pack from Sorsha's hands. It took all of Sorsha's effort to keep herself from groaning at the unwavering respect she heard in Kessy's voice…she'd done nothing to earn it. As the girl folded herself into a comfortable position and grabbed the first pack, Sorsha headed back into the castle.

It was more than time fore Eireach to be up and helping, she thought as she watched the shadows lose ground to the light creeping in through the windows. He should be up helping her with the preparations they'd devised together. It surprised her that she was actually looking forward to seeing him. Though, if it was because she wanted to have another row with him or she just looked forward to his uncanny ability to lighten her mood, she wasn't entirely sure yet. Either way, her steps were sprightlier as she made her way to his rooms.

When she reached his door, she knocked soundly, vowing to herself that if he was still in bed at this hour, she'd break through the door and rip him from his silk sheets herself. She could see it, Eireach snuggled into the thick downy softness of his pillows, his ruddy curls flying everywhere, oblivious to the world and the preparations they'd spent so much meticulous time planning. Because she could picture it all too well…and it did little to irritate and more to arouse…she wiped the image from her head.

When a moment passed and still there was no sound from within, she knocked once more before she braced herself and prepared to shock the nobleman from his slumber. She lunged forward as the door opened…and crashed into Eireach before she could stop herself. They crashed to the floor with a resounding thud and a tangle of limbs. When her wits were about her again, she found herself on top of a half naked, water soaked Eireach.

"You were taking a bath."

He smiled at her, but was kind enough not to tease her for her startled, muttered words, "Now this is a pleasant morning surprise." His voice held a cheery laughter that echoed pleasantly in his eyes. Shock gave way to the uncomfortable truth that he wore little more than a bath towel beneath her. She placed her hands on his chest, ignoring the quick knot that tightened in her belly, and pushed away from him.

"You aren't ready," she said, refusing to acknowledge how the damp curls framing his face gave him more of a boyish charm, especially when his face lit with those devastating smiles.

He aimed one at her now as he lifted himself from the floor, a cautionary hand on the towel that rested low on his hips, "Good of you to notice." Sorsha balled her fists at her hips.

"You should be outside." She damned her tongue, it seemed utterly useless to her as he stood there with beads of water dripping all over.

"My, my," he smirked, turning to his closet. "Aren't we talkative this morning?" So he was finally going to tease her for it…fine. Sorsha deigned to give him a bland stare as he threw her another winning smirk.

"Are you going to get dressed, or what?"

"Unless you want to watch, you might want to wait in my office." She was tempted to call the dare she saw in his eyes, if only to spite the grin on his face, but when he teasingly pulled at his towel, she threw her hands up.

"Alright! Alright, I'll go sit in your office, but don't take forever primping." His smile was good humored as he turned to his closet once more.

"I don't primp."

Her eyes rolled in her head, for no reason, she thought…he couldn't see it, "Oh right, so you just always look that good?" The heat crept over her skin as she realized what she had said and she thanked the gods that he couldn't see her face. But she didn't need to see the roguish smile on his lips to know that it was there. The knowledge of it made her want to smack herself in the face.

"I look good do I?" Yes, she thought to herself, though outwardly she merely huffed her way across the room. She'd have to be dead…and dead a month at that…not to admit that to at least herself. But she'd never tell him that, so she simply walked into his office with the sound of his rich and alluring laughter fading behind her.

**There** was a lavish dinner spread out before him and instead of that warm feeling of delight he usually experienced at dinner time…he was disgusted. That wasn't how it should be, Damien gritted his teeth as his pudgy ham hock hands clenched into themselves. Usually, such and impressive array of edibles would send him into delights, but the mockery of a meal that was before him now could never and WOULD never do that.

But that was before he'd lost control of his own menu. His lip curled and his nose wrinkled as narrowed, lid heavy eyes scanned the decorative crystal plates with disgusting fruits and vile vegetables fanned out in delicate organic rainbows. Where were his pastries, dripping with sinful glazes and his candied fruits, the only kind of fruits he'd willingly let pass through his lips? Where were the gravy slathered meats and potatoes, steaming invitingly from their platters?

He knew what had happened to his pleasurable dinners, Kindraa had happened to them. His bottom lip jutted out like a petulant child as he stared across the table at the source of his annoyance and rumbling belly. She pretended as if he weren't there, her usual treatment of him, unless she wanted something.

Her overlong fingers plucked a piece of fruit, he'd be the last person in the Underground who could say what fruit it was, from one of his elaborate crystal bowls. A dramatic sigh of contentment slipped through her lips as she tasted the juicy produce.

"Centuries…" she sighed, her eyes closed with the ecstasy he'd come to find normal during their meals.

"I know, I know…centuries since I've tasted something so delicious," he grumped, folding his arms and vainly wishing for a fine slice of beef. "I suffer through your speech every time we sit down at this table." A certain amount of leeway had been given him in the weeks since she'd been here. Something about 'it's amusing when you pout.' He didn't much care at the moment if she flayed him or not, anything would be better than this torture.

"Oh do relax and eat something, Damien." He snorted derisively at the spread of food she'd arranged, needing no words to get his point across. "You need to learn appreciation for food that isn't steeped in or made of complete fat." Again, he simply huffed, unimpressed with her speech. "Very well," she sighed amusedly. "Just promise not to make any slurping noises while you siphon this down your throat." She waved her hand and half the food on the table morphed into all of his gravy soaked, candy coated favorites.

With a triumphant smirk, Damien made quick work of the food before him. So immersed in a cherry tart was he that he barely noticed when Kindraa went stiff across the table, her eyes fixed on a floating orb.

"My lady," a voice that sounded so eerily like Kindraa's echoed through the chamber as if from a far distance. Damien looked up from the delicate tart, red stains on either side of his lips where the filling had escaped his mouth. The voice was coming from the orb and he'd been wrong about the voice he decided as he listened to it weave through the room. "I bring you news," the voice continued. Under its harshness, it's Kindraa-like qualities, there was something more human, something less demonic and almost pleasant in its tone. Kindraa was staring at the orb intently, no doubt longing for the piece of her that was lost to the one it possessed at the moment. But that was understandable, Damien figured as he shoved the rest of the tart into his mouth, who would want to have a bit of themselves in someone else?

"Do tell, my sweet." There was no mistaking the voice that was purely Kindraa. Now that she'd spoken, he could really tell the difference between the voices.

"There is an attack planned. The attack will come from Tornum."

"Tornum!?" He asked, disbelieving. "That doesn't make sense." Kindraa turned to him and it seemed the orb did as well…it was disconcerting to feel animosity from a floating crystal.

"I assume that's why it was chosen," Kindraa said insipidly, as if she were talking to a child…a slow child. Her attention went back to the orb and she held a hand out to it, letting it rest on her palm. "When do they come?"

"Now," the voice echoed as the orb disintegrated. Kindraa stood from the table and started gliding across to the door, stopping and turning back to him when he didn't move.

"Get your fat self up and tell the troops to head to Tornum NOW!" He cast pleading eyes over the food that he hadn't enough time at ALL to appreciate. "I said now." Her tone was deadly serious and to prove her point, set the remaining food on the table to flame.

**Almost** everyone was through, Eireach and the ground troops had gone through smoothly and so had all the weapons, supplies and everything else they'd needed. All that was left was for the mounted troops to make their way through and then she, Cyric and Jareth could get over there and finally get things started.

Her fingers itched at the promised battle today. It had been far too long since she'd been useful to anyone and today she would be, finally, doing something that would make a difference, that would separate her from that bastard that had plagued her all her life.

Finally.

Commotion across the field caught her attention and something coiled unpleasantly in her belly. Her warrior senses were screaming as she shoved her way through the remaining soldiers who were kicking up a dust storm in their panic. She watched men teleporting left and right in haste, fear and excitement in their eyes. Oh, something was definitely wrong.

"MOVE!!" A path cleared in front of her and she saw one of the foot soldiers in the middle of the commotion, an arrow sticking from his shoulder, a red stain spreading steadily from the wound. "What happened!?" The soldier looked up into her eyes, shame filled them as he muttered something about abandoning the troops. She gripped his face, nerves tightening in her stomach. "What happened soldier?" she asked calmly.

"Ambushed. They knew…somehow…they knew." The knot in her stomach clenched viciously as one thing came to her mind, clear and shocking as crystal.

"Eireach…." With a hasty scream for everyone to teleport to Tornum NOW and a moment to grab her bow and throw her quiver over her shoulders, she felt her own magic creep over her skin. When she arrived in Tornum, the battle was in full swing.

So much blood, she thought, her mind desperate for a sight of Eireach. That bloody nobleman had FINALLY shown her that he wasn't the insufferable ASS she'd thought him to be…there was no way she was going to let him die on her now.

Swords clashed to her left, fists flew to her right, she brushed by it all with the seasoned instinct her father had drilled into her. Her own swords danced in the air, clearing a blood soaked path for her through the battlefield. In her haste, she realized as the dark shimmer of a sword swung near her ear, she'd forgotten her helmet. As she fought off her attacker, she cursed herself for her stupidity. How in the hells could she have forgotten her damned helmet? If she managed to live through this, a feat her idiocy had lessened the chances of, she'd berate herself for it later. Regret was not an emotion she had the luxury to feel at the moment.

She spotted Jareth fighting across the way near Jeaule and Cyric. He looked like the wrath of the gods himself, his hair flying wildly from under the helmet she realized wasn't his. He'd most likely grabbed another in his haste to Tornum. The newlyweds were fighting back to back, good strategy for those two and one she'd drilled into them. Cyric was capable on his own, but Jeaule still wasn't ready to fight without him at her back. She fought beautifully though, Sorsha mused with a twinge of pride that she knew she didn't have time to feel. But time be damned, she was proud of the woman who fought like a beacon of light upon the battlefield.

Another sword whirled into her vision, even as she ripped hers from its human sheath. Her weapon crashed, stained blood red against he enemy's virgin blade. She could see in his eyes that he recognized the swords in an instant and the fear was swift. To her chagrin, her swords weren't quite fast enough to cut off his dying scream to his comrades around him.

"Kael!" was the last word that echoed from the man's lips before his head rolled to the ground, his body swift to follow. But the damage was done; she grimaced as a wave of silence consumed the battlefield, with her at its epicenter. Every enemy head turned to her, blood lust burning in their eyes. While her heart sank in her chest, she praised the deal fool at her feet…and his head several meters down the slight hill. The distraction, however brief it might have been, had given her people time to gain some footing and even up the score a bit.

Sorsha could see her death in the eyes of those around her, even as the fighting resumed. The enemy stole glances at her, cutting her way through them like a scythe through crops, as they felled, or fell to, her soldiers. They broke off from what they obviously thought of as lesser kills when they were able, hacking at her with a single-minded craze that told her she'd been made a specific target. At the moment, she didn't find that particularly soothing, but the warrior inside of her grinned at having such an honor. Well, it was no shock to her that Kindraa wanted her dead, she held a piece of the demon didn't she? There was little that bitch wouldn't do to get it back.

As her soul grinned, a rather large, brutish looking soldier broke from the mayhem with eyes…and a rather creepy grin…only for her. The smirk on his face promised her a world of pain as he lunged for her. She was grateful that he was such a bull, she could avoid a bull, but she'd be grateful not to suffer his company long. Her luck was short, his blade arched towards her, already stained red with the blood of her men.

She blocked the first blow, the shock of it rippling down her arms. She spun her body, avoiding the swing of the battle axe he held in his other hand and swung out with her own sword, scoring flesh. It bought her merely a moment, but it was enough to gain her center again and that was more than she needed. The behemoth was startled, true, but her first blow was but a scratch to such a creature. Sorsha knew that the pain on his face was due more to the fact that he'd let his flesh be scored by a woman.

She cared little for his ego, taking the moment he spent stroking his ego to lunge with a sword into his gut, twisting viciously so the teeth on her blade could grip and tear at vulnerable flesh. As he went down, a startled and affronted expression etched into his face on death, the whirling and clashing of steel on steel resounded in her head. Tired of the same old tricks going on around her, Sorsha decided to spin into the unconventional. She hadn't covered it with the troops and it wasn't a trick that just any weapon could do, but Kindraa's impudence at sending the babies to do her own job forced the magic down Sorsha's arms.

She pictured it in her mind, the fire rippling over the surface of the blades and grinned maniacally when they burst to life. "Come and get it bastards!" she shouted to those around her. She praised the goddess for the blades in her hands; even if they hadn't been made for her, her father had passed them to her. It usually came in handy to have weapons that could do tricks only a handful of others could.

Soldiers seemed hell-bent on avoiding her now that the swords she twirled before her looked like avenging dragons, thirsting for their blood as flames poured from their mouths. A body bumped into her back and she spun around, swords at the defense.

"That's an awfully neat trick, but do you mind aiming them elsewhere?" As her mind registered that it was Eireach, alive and well…if not covered in blood that wasn't entirely the enemy's…before her, she slashed out at a would-be attacker. She attack set him aflame and had him screaming, a bright torch, into the field. "What the hell are you doing out here without a helmet?" he asked, sweat soaked curls poking out from under his own. He thrust his sword out, blocking a mace that was aimed at her unprotected head.

"I was kind of in a hurry to get here and save your noble ass," she replied sarcastically, putting her back to his so they could protect one another.

"Well, looks like you're protecting me now, satisfied?" It amazed her that even here, amidst the screams and blood, he could still joke with her.

"I will be if you watch mine now."

"Gladly." They fought off more men than most of the others. That was her own fault, she thought, ashamed. A fire tipped arrow broke her concentration, whizzing by her head, missing by an inch if it was a mile. Eireach hadn't been as lucky; his startled shout had her gripping her swords tighter.

"You still with me?" If he was dead….

"Yeah," she sighed with relief as she heard him patting on his shoulder…putting out a small fire, she assumed. "Damn thing nipped my sword shoulder, burned my sleeve and melted my skin damn near off, but other than that…I'm perfect."

"Can you still fight?" Another soldier flung himself at her. She thrust the hilt of her sword up and into his nose and was rewarded by a sickening crack and a shower of blood. The soldier's eyes rolled up into his head as he slumped to the ground.

"I think I can, but-"

"It's Lord Tur!!" It was shouted to their right and the enemy cheered. Sorsha gripped her swords tight again…apparently she hadn't been the only target. "He's with Kael!!!" Sorsha watched in horror as an archer set another flame tipped arrow to his bow and aimed at Eireach. Her eyes flew to him, but he was occupied with a rather aggressive soldier, his sword arm showing the pain of the wound.

He had no idea what was coming, she thought with dread coiling in her belly like a viper ready to strike. And what was worse, his back was turned, where body armor was weakest. A white hot arrow would slice through the thick leather like a knife through half melted butter.

She didn't have time to think, only to react. Only a step, it's all it would take to get the arrow in an arm or leg…a wound she could heal from readily enough. She had her chest armor on, they couldn't kill her. But damn, she thought as she stepped in front of Eireach, this was going to hurt.

**Pain** lanced down his sore arm as he buried his sword to the hilt in the enemy's gut. He let out a triumphant whoop that was caught between elation at the kill and the gripping pain in his shoulder. It didn't seem that it had plans to stop any time soon, so he would have to suck it up for now…or die. And he didn't like the latter choice.

"Did you see that Sorsha?" he asked, knowing that she would be proud of the extra moves that she'd taught him. But it wasn't her laughter he heard this time, it was a blood curdling scream that ripped at him. "Sorsha!!" He whipped around, dread building against his heart that something worse than a wound had happened to her.

"Oh shut up!" He heard her hiss through gritted teeth. "We don't need the rest of them to know we're here!" There was an arrow, he noted with another drop of his stomach. It's tip wasn't white hot any longer, but he could tell that it had been for the wound still smoked and the arrow had passed straight through her thigh. She turned her leg to survey the damage and let another agonized scream wrench from her lips. "It went through muscle, cauterized the-" her words were cut short as another desperate cry came from her. "Care to help a girl out?" He watched as she broke the tip of the arrow off and turned to him, sickness in his mouth as he realized what she needed him to do.

With a quick sigh, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Brace yourself."

Her eyes were steady as she gripped his good shoulder, "Do it quick." Her brow was set, ready for the blast of pain when he wrenched the arrow from her leg. Though he hadn't expected the stream of inventive cursing, he had expected the quick flash of her bow and arrow as she took out the bastard who had shot her. "That is the last time I do something like that," he heard her mumble.

"Last time you do what?" Her eyes flashed up to his, the pain clear as crystal in her brown eyes.

"Save a life." It was all she said before more soldiers were upon them both. Her words echoed through his head as they fought. He thought of where the archer she'd killed had been standing and where she had been when he spotted her. As it all clicked in his head, the truth nearly shocked him out of his rhythm. Sorsha had saved HIS life. It amazed him that she could still move like the very lightning from the sky with a wound like that, but little about her didn't shock him. But this truth of what she'd done…that shocked him the most.

"Retreat!!!" They both heard the shouted order reverberate from the direction of the lake. There was a wave effect of men teleporting away from the battle after that and soon all that were left of the field were their own men and the dead or dying enemy.

"At least we forced them to that," Sorsha panted next to him, blood staining most of her, though little of it was her own. The arrow had cauterized the wound as it had pierced through her flesh and as far as he could see, she didn't have any others. "They underestimated us."

"Yes," he agreed. "They may have surprised us, but we gave them a hell of a fight." He smiled down at her, amazed at the woman who stood next to him, so at home here on the battlefield with the blood. And yet…and yet he could envision her in the quiet confines of the castle with equal comfort. She truly was an enigma.

"They'll be training like MAD MEN now that they know what they're up against!" Cyric called out from behind them, running up with a grin on his face until he caught sight of Sorsha. "Good gods! Is that all yours?"

"Little to none," she answered with a grimace.

"Here, let me help," Eireach offered.

"I've got it, I'm okay, really." But despite her insistence, it was quite apparent hat she didn't and wasn't okay. She wasn't able to put any weight on her injured leg, so without permission…and without care for permission…Eireach scooped her off her feet. "What the HELLS do you think you're doing?" she shouted as she wiggled in his arms in meek protest, fire in her eyes. His shoulder screamed.

"You can't walk on that leg." Her lips parted, a fine retort ready, he was sure. "Just be quiet please and let me get you to a Healer." He could see in her eyes that she wanted to rant and rave, but she pursed her lips and crossed her arms sullenly.

"I'll take these for you," Cyric offered as he took her weapons, adding to her chagrin at being coddled. Eireach saw the moment where she looked so vulnerable without her weapons, so worried not to have them at arms reach. He tightened his grip for a moment, one slight moment that he hoped would give her peace. It worked. She didn't look ready to skip rope with them, but she wasn't going to make a big deal about it. "Let's get our general some attention." Sorsha rolled her eyes at the smiling King and shifted her weight more comfortably in Eireach's arms. He bit his lip as his shoulder screamed once more, but refused to make a sound. He was determined to get her stubborn ass to the Healers without her on the leg, so he had to deal with the pain for a few more meters.

"Oh please," she sighed at Cyric. "I'm better off than YOU look, Cyric." It was good to hear the teasing in her voice, even though the undertone was bitter at being babied by them. "Really, I didn't even have a helmet and I didn't end up with a spectacular bruise like that." Cyric grinned and nodded.

"Yeah, I got the flat of a blade against the temple. Rattled me good." The bruise looked angry in hues of deep purples and blues across the left side of his face. He'd have a black eye by the time it stopped spreading and Eireach didn't envy him when it turned the sickly yellow of healing. Eireach glanced at his friend as they walked to the Healer's tent that was being erected.

"Jeaule?"

"She's fine." Cyric smirked, a proud husband. "She fought like an avenging angel…it was beautiful." Eireach nodded, knowing exactly what Cyric meant.

"Injuries?" Sorsha's voice was weaker for the pain, it was starting to settle in now that she wasn't able to fight it.

Cyric shook his head, "Nothing serious, I have a few scrapes to go along with this beauty," he laughed as he motioned to his bruising. "Jareth seems to be damned near invincible…jerk."

"Where is he?" Eireach asked quickly.

"Went home right away to make sure Sarah is still pregnant I assume." There was a jovial laughter in his voice as he spoke of Jareth. They both knew that he was an anxious father and it was amusing to watch him. "As far as Jeaule goes though, she was scraped and bruised as well, but we didn't have many to fight seeing as they were all fighting their way to the two of you." Sorsha nodded weakly, apology in her eyes. "The way they had targets like that, I was sure I'd be one, but none of them seemed to recognize me. That or I wasn't a target, but that would be a horrible blow to my ego if I weren't."

"Don't worry," Sorsha joked. "I'm sure you were." The three shared a rare laugh as they entered the tent. Eireach was instantly disconcerted by the multitudes of patients, a reaction he saw Sorsha and Cyric shared in spades. Before they could really take it in, Jeaule ran up to them, worry clouding her pretty golden eyes.

"OH! Is she okay?"

"Yes, yes. Of course I'm okay. These two are just fussing like old women." To prove his point, Eireach lowered Sorsha to her feet.

"Okay then, walk to the cot by yourself then." He had to give her credit, she tried, but it wasn't like out in the field. There was no one threatening their lives now to give her extra strength that she didn't have.

After a few stumbles and pointless attempts she sighed, "Oh pick me up already." She leaned against him, an act that made the newly weds next to them smirk…thank the gods Sorsha hadn't seen that. "You've made your point." Eireach smirk himself as he picked her back up, but Jeaule didn't miss his grimace.

"Looks like she isn't the only one who's in denial over a wound." Jeaule fretted at his bicep a moment, inspecting where the arrow had seared his flesh right below the shoulder. "Set her down on that cot over there and then get that armor off of yourself. Peel that damned shirt off if you have to as well." Eireach did as he was told and placed Sorsha down on the cot as it turned into a bed around her.

"Did you do that?" he asked Cyric as their friend placed Sorsha's weapons by the bed.

"No," Cyric looked confused. "I thought you had done it."

"Well then," Eireach grinned down at Sorsha, who was attempting to look innocent…and failing miserably. "I guess everyone is entitled to a little vanity." Cyric chuckled, saying something about helping Jeaule, as he walked off. Back in the bed, Sorsha's eyes rolled in her head once more.

"It's not like the stupid thing is even lavish or anything." That was true enough, Eireach mused, it was a simple bed and not even entirely comfortable. He couldn't help but wonder if this was what her personal bed was like. But thinking about her in bed stirred him more than he'd wished or imagined, so he turned from her and started removing his armor as Jeaule had told him to.

The armor came off easily enough, but when he went to take his shirt off, it felt like he was trying to rip the very kin from his arm. He'd nearly given up when small, steady hands brushed under the wound. It was a merely whisper of contact, but Eireach was pretty sure this was the first time Sorsha had touched him of her own free will. The gentleness of the touch surprised him anew, as did the concern in her eyes.

"This is going to hurt almost as much as my leg."

"Do you have to?" He didn't care if he sounded like a sissy for saying it. Who cares that she had him rip the arrow from her leg without a second thought? He knew that she was about to peel the shirt from his melted skin and it was the last thing in the Underground he wanted to go through right now.

"I'm afraid so, Jeaule's going to need to clean it up and she can't do that with shirt bits in it." Sorsha conjured him a stick to place between his teeth. "Just bite down and think of how much more painful it was when you pulled the arrow from my leg." He heard the smile in her voice and was smirked, despite himself, but she took that nice moment to rip the material from his arm.

"Bloody, buggering HELL!" He felt the blood run warm down his arm and heard something ripping…but that was material…surely that was material? It was material and it was being wrapped around his arm, something, anything to staunch the blood flow until Jeaule returned. When he looked back, he saw that Sorsha had torn the sleeve from her shirt as it was the only material not currently soaked with enemy blood. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Oh what happened here?" Jeaule asked, concerned as he came back with an armful of supplies she would need to tend them.

"Just prepped him for you." Eireach shook his head as Jeaule tended his arm. His was the more serious wound as his arm was bleeding quite emphatically. But still, he just shook his head as he kept his eyes on Sorsha. What was he going to do about her…?

**Later** that night, when everyone was home and healed…enough…the six gathered in Cyric and Jeaule's rooms. Cyric had called them all there, even though Sorsha still limped, because something had gone terribly wrong and he wouldn't find sleep until it was discussed.

Jareth and Sarah had arrived first. It seemed the two were finally settling into her condition; Jareth didn't fuss over where she should sit. There was no teasing argument centering around if sitting by the fire was better for the baby than sitting on the comfortable couch. He merely took her straight to the couch and made sure that she was comfortable.

"So where are Eireach and Sorsha?" Jareth asked as he draped himself over an armchair, the crackling fire lighting a halo through his wild hair. He wiggled his eyebrows in an off movement that Cyric thought didn't suit him at all. "Are they 'making up' for all the torture they put each other through?" They all four got a good chuckle out of that.

"He cares for her far more than he's putting on," Sarah stated. It was a fact that was quite clear to them all, though no one had really spoken of it till now. "And vice versa."

"It's a shame her upbringing was…well what it was." Jeaule sighed and took a sip of tea from her seat at Sarah's side. "If she'd had a better one, she might not be fighting him quite as valiantly as she is now." Cyric nodded, agreeing with is wife, but unable to sit with his friends. His mind was racing too fast and too far from the conversation at hand, it kept him pacing before the fire like a caged beast.

He knew the others were thinking along the same lines as he, but it was ultimately his fault, wasn't it? To have allowed a spy into his court? Yes, he admitted dismally, the blame was squarely on his shoulders, but that didn't mean he was going to let that fact sink him. That's what the fat piggy Damien wanted after all, emotional warfare was as brutal as the physical.

"So what are we going to do?" His wife's level voice held a level of mischievousness that pulled him from his thoughts.

"Weed them out," he muttered into the fire and received three frowns in return. His brows winged up as he realized he wasn't talking of the same thing. "What were you talking about?"

Jareth grinned playfully, "What were YOU talking about?"

"Obviously something different," Cyric admitted, raking a hand through his unruly hair.

"Well, we were talking about Tor and Kael."

"They have names you know," Sarah chided. Jareth simply leaned back in the armchair and smiled over his hair at his wife.

"I know." The amusedly suffering glance she sent him back had his smile widening as he turned an inquisitive gaze to Cyric. "So where are they anyways? No one answered me before."

"I asked Eireach to help Sorsha up here, the stairs will give her trouble."

"Yes," Jeaule interjected. "I had to use magic to seal the wound to her leg, but the arrow burned and melted its way through muscle." Her eyes were clouded and pained, Cyric knew that she felt she hadn't done enough for Sorsha. But she'd worked tirelessly on both Sorsha and Eireach…the arrows had been unexpected. Though, they shouldn't have been considering they were dealing with Kindraa, but hind sight was always 20/20. "She'll have to work through some stiffness that can't be helped."

"I still don't know how she got hit though, she's always so aware," Sarah commented and everyone contemplated that. That was a mystery that they'd all been wondering on since Eireach had walked into the tent with Sorsha in his arms. They didn't get the chance to ponder that mystery though, for the door opened to Eireach struggling with a disgruntled Sorsha.

"I'm not made of damn porcelain." Sorsha all but growled.

"If you'd stopped acting like a stubborn BABY, we could have been here with you sitting down by now." It was painfully obvious that Eireach's patience was strained. He was stuck in a vest of deep green due to the bulky bandaging at his arm. The arrow that had struck HIM had melted his skin so badly that Jeaule figured he'd have an impressive scar, regardless of what she could do for him.

"Ah, I see the two of you are getting along swimmingly," Jareth said from his armchair, not glancing over them.

"He won't let me walk on my own."

"You CAN'T yet, just accept the damn help." Eireach's voice was edged with the irritation he was suffering to keep in check.

"Okay children," Cyric raised his hands to silence them. "Now that we're all here, I think it's time to discuss this."

"There's a spy." Sorsha said it plainly and he thanked the gods for someone who wouldn't stumble over the subject.

"Yes, Damien knew where we were going to be and we need to find out how." Sorsha shifted on the couch, Eireach's eagle eyes on her for sign of pain.

"I have a theory." Cyric leaned against the mantle, the first time he'd stopped moving since he'd come in the room, and gave Sorsha his full attention.

"Do tell."

"Well, Kindraa IS a Chaos demon," her hand rolled as if they should all know what she meant. "She sees different futures; she could have seen this one." Jeaule frowned over at her.

"I thought she only read people in person and saw their specific futures? How could she have seen OUR plans?" Sorsha shrugged, looking back to Cyric who was framed by the firelight.

"She could be reading Damien's soldiers." Her words made sense, but the doubt still rolled in his stomach.

"Keep your eyes open anyways." Conversation dwindled to more innocent and menial topics that would lull them to a quiet in the hopes of getting groggy for sleep. It didn't take long for Sorsha and Sarah to both get tired, their conditions lowering their normal stamina. Another argument ensued when Eireach went to help Sorsha back to her room and it faded as the two fought their way down the hall. Sarah and Jareth were next, with a quiet nod and smile before Jareth draped an arm over his wife's shoulder and headed to their rooms.

Cyric crossed to the window, his mind whirring for it wasn't completely satisfied with Sorsha's theory. It made sense, that was true enough, if Kindraa read her soldiers, she could possibly see the ambush in their future, but little was known of how a Chaos demon worked. That uncertainty did nothing for nerves that had frayed during that day and confidence that had been shattered by the gloom of a possible spy.

"Stop it." Jeaule's voice was stern behind him as her arms wrapped around his chest. "I can hear the wheels turning in here," she said, kissing his ear. "You do this and they win, my love." He knew she was right, this loss of confidence was exactly what Damien wanted.

He'd be damned if he let that spoiled brat win.

**(A/N: Who caught the 'Weird Science' nod? Probably not many. LOL Sorry this was posted a little late, but I don't think that anyone can begrudge life. LOL Anyways, I'm hoping that you all are excited that some action finally happened!! I had fun with this chapter and I hope the rest of you did as well! Those who read and reviewed last chapter, bringing me many smiles and happiness were:**

**darklady26, Eternal Eyes, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, notwritten, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**Thanks guys and much love to you!)**


	11. Much Ado AboutSomething

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**The** battle may have been two weeks in the past, but now was when the truly hard work came into play. Now that no one in the Westernlands had a shred of doubt that Cyric was against Damien in this war, there was an influx in the population of the Easternlands that had Eireach's head spinning. He'd been instructed on how to deal with matters of war at his father's knee, but Eireach could admit to himself that he was glad to have Jareth there to help.

In all honesty, his body would rather be out on the training field than sitting here discussing matters of state, but his mind demanded that he be present for these things. It was his duty after all. And since when, he thought, his brow furrowing, did he prefer training over logical debate anyways?

"The farmers will fight tooth and nail for the soil on your western and southern borders," Jareth told Cyric now, an edge in his voice that warned of a smaller internal war if the matter wasn't dealt with swiftly and diplomatically.

"It's true, that soil is rich from its hibernation under Medb's rule." Eireach added, he knew that as well as Jareth did and knew that they had to find the right farmers for those lands as well. They couldn't waste such precious soil on men who might desert at any time. No, they had to find experienced and LOYAL men to care for those fields. They would have to be the best, not just because they'd need to be trusted, but because that soil would all but throw the harvest into the bushels FOR them.

"We're going to need to build a whole new town for all these people." Cyric's voice was quiet with wonder at the vast amounts of people who had deserted Damien for the Easternlands. Eireach knew that the amazement in those pale blue eyes would take time to clear. It would be hard for any King to realize that he was suddenly responsible for so many more lives. "That will have to wait till Damien tires of this petty little war of his…or I end him. Whatever comes first."

"Quite true," Jareth agreed with an encouraging smack to Cyric's back. "We can't waste the man power on something like that right now." Eireach nodded as his fingers slid down the lists again.

"They can build a tent city for now."

"We'll have to scout the camps for the able bodied and willing men who wish to join the troops." Jareth's words had both Cyric and himself already weary of the task ahead. It would take a lot of time, patience and heightened insight into character to get through this number of people.

"I'll send Sorsha out to look through those who want to join the ranks."

"I'm going with her, Cyric." Two sets of amused eyes looked to each other with wily waggles of brows that Cyric had obviously intended to keep to himself and Jareth. "And I saw that," Eireach said, crushing Cyric's hopes, as his fingers skimmed down the lists again. "I know she's capable and the gods know that giving her something to do would shut her up for five minutes." His friends chuckled, knowing what a handful the little brunette had been in the two weeks since the battle. "But she'll need help with this."

"Just for the sake of your manhood, don't try to help that woman walk." Jareth grimaced, but even now it held the hint of a humorous grin. His hand rubbed at his arm, "I held out a hand to help her when she looked a little tired last night and I thought she'd punch straight through the flesh on a hell path to my heart."

Cyric looked sympathetic, he'd taken his share of the brunt of Sorsha's irritation these weeks. "She's on edge," he said simply.

"She's not used to people taking care of her…or even giving a damn at all," Eireach added. "So she reverts to the emotions she knows the best." It was an excuse that no one would accept, unless they knew how she grew up…with WHOM she grew up. "Can't really blame her for that." He ignored it when his friends shared another eye waggle. Whine as they might, he'd taken more flack from her than anyone…and he was the one defending her.

"Anyways," Cyric started, weakly disguising escaping laughter as a coughing fit. "The farms…." Eireach latched onto the change of subject. He was much more willing to talk of things he UNDERSTOOD over the mystery that was Sorsha.

They fell into the lulling familiarity of land rights, treaties, ownership and the brain numbing diplomacy of it all. He felt right at home. It was simple, repetitive work that would easily keep his mind off of her. Work that would keep his thoughts on politics and off of the tingle along his arm as she's touched him two weeks ago.

Damn it.

He pushed through as best he could, not knowing how Cyric or Jareth could focus when a woman so dominated their thoughts. And by the gods, he thought, mentally slapping himself in the head, why was he comparing himself to men in love?

"So Eireach," Cyric said, authority in his voice that Eireach could be proud he'd had a hand training in there. "You and Sorsha will head out tomorrow." Despite the woman swimming distractingly through his thoughts, he'd followed the discussion.

They'd all settled on himself and Sorsha leaving the following morning for what they'd termed 'Tent City' for the time being. The trip would serve two main purposes, one for Sorsha and one that he would tend to. His goal was to lay the groundwork for when Cyric would come to delegate the separation of lands. Eireach would see to that by nosing around for everyone's opinions…and forming his own…on who the wisest and those with the best loyal roots of Tent City.

Sorsha's task would be just as arduous. She'd be the one who would sift through however many hopeful soldiers gathered to prove themselves to her. He knew that she wouldn't be easy to impress, she never was. At least that meant that Cyric's army would end up with only the best that Tent City had to offer.

"And I trust no one else as completely with the job." Cyric rolled up the lists and handed them over to Eireach, his eyes full of a mocking pity. "Guess you'll need these for tomorrow, I can't say that I envy you." Eireach grinned, tucking the lists under his arm

"Don't envy me dealing with Tent City or Sorsha if she starts paining?"

"I' sure he means a bit of both," Jareth teased. "Well, now that I'm done here with the manly work, I think I'm off to bother my lovely wife." His smile was wickedly roguish and there was a boyish gleam to his eyes. "I'm sure she hadn't had a reason to roll her eyes or get irritated with someone since I saw her last."

"It's a strange love you have." Eireach smirked at the whimsy in Jareth's eyes.

"I don't think either of us could survive without the lovely controlled chaos we live in." His eyes danced as memories flooded through him. "I have many wonderful memories of haranguing her into kissing me silent. It's quite effective," he said matter-of-factly. There was still a smile on Jareth's lips as he left to find his wife.

"Jeaule wouldn't stand for that at all. We tease and all, but-"

Eireach laughed, "No, the two of you prefer that sickly sweet love that gives everyone within a kilometer a stomach ache." He was pleased that his friend had sense of humor enough to chuckle along.

"I'm not so sure of the sickly, but my lovely bride is devastatingly sweet." Eireach was sure that Jeaule was and that was what he'd always thought he wanted. But lately it seemed as if his mind was rebelling against him, conjuring visions of a hot tempered, stubborn woman against his will. He needed to get her off his mind, he needed to go for a walk.

After saying goodbye to Cyric, Eireach turned his mind and his feet towards his library. He could almost feel the warmth of his fireplace melting the places that the winter chill of the castle hallways had placed in him. Yes, he thought, it would be nice to simple lounge in one of his plush armchairs with a good book, the only sounds around him the quiet crackle of the fire and the song of the pure white snow birds outside.

They had yet to have their snow to play in, but Eireach figured the snow wasn't far off now. The chilly winter air breezed through the open hallway windows, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the walls. Eireach had always hated the necessity of opening those windows at least once a week, but how else would the castle air out if they didn't? He supposed, as he huddled into the scant warmth of his shirt, that he would take being a little chilly in the hallways to the castle reeking of hundreds of smelly bodies.

But it wasn't simply the sounds of the snow birds he'd been thinking of that were drifting in with the breeze. The sound was of steel on wood, irregular strokes which meant someone was taking out a little frustration on the pole, and it had him rolling his eyes. Eireach didn't need to see to know that it was Sorsha down there, wound be damned, getting herself back into fighting shape.

He turned to a window, despite himself, and laid his hands on the cold stone of the windowsill. She was down there, as he'd imagined, bundled in JUST enough to keep the chill off. Her twin blades were dancing over the wooden pole, to its detriment, as if it were a demon sent to kill her. If he hadn't known, he might never have guessed that she'd been injured, might never have guess that a mere two weeks ago, white steel had speared through her thigh.

Thinking of that day brought an unconscious hand to his shoulder. He could have been a LOT worse off if it hadn't been for that hell cat down there, currently turning the pole to wood shavings. Thanks to her surprising act of selflessness, he merely had an awkward stiffness he would have to accommodate for until he learned to move with it.

The sound of her pained grunt drifted up to his window and his brow knotted as she defied it, getting up to practice anew. Was this all there was to the girl? Could war, fighting and all this darkness be the true core of her? No, he relented, feeling a bit guilty. He'd seen the vulnerability in her. She'd cried herself nearly to sleep on his shoulder that night at the gala dinner, because of a mother who hadn't known the treasure she'd created. She had stepped in front of an arrow for him, knowing that where it would injure her, it would have killed him. She'd even helped prepare the wound on his arm when he'd been unable.

Yes, it was an injustice he did her to think that darkness was the core of her. He swore he'd never think it again.

**Jeaule** was thrilling over the baby as they walked. Sarah had felt it move for the first time and that maternal glow was simply blinding right now. Of course, the two couldn't possibly tell Jareth that he'd missed the first movement, so that was something they'd keep to themselves. For now, Sarah had wanted to take a walk, something within her needed to walk these halls. It wasn't as if her happiness had any REAL power, but it was nice to think that she and Jeaule were spreading it through a castle that had only seen such darkness for so long.

Though she didn't look, she knew she would see the 'statue' of Medb still out in the courtyard if she did. She hadn't gone down to see it, though that same something, most likely a disgruntled conscience of some sort, had wanted to. It had wanted to step in front of her stone tomb and gloat, just a little, she assured herself. But instead, she stayed wise and walked the hallways, ridding them of Medb's lingering presence.

"So what's been the most horrible thing about the pregnancy?"

Sarah laughed that THAT would be her first real question about it, "It's not really so terrible. Well, I admit the first while is kind of an ordeal. No one likes throwing up and generally feeling like stable scrapings." Jeaule's eyes twinkled merrily. "No, honestly, I think the worst thing about all of this is not being able to eat sugar."

"That seals it," Jeaule said, a sudden teasing seriousness to her face, "I'm not having babies."

"Oh, yes you will." Sarah said, rubbing her hand over an abdomen that was FINALLY beginning to show her condition. It was like a little miracle, knowing what was growing within her. And knowing that it belonged to her and Jareth, that they'd made it together, well that just made the miracle spectacular. "There's a magic about it that counters any pain or inconvenience. You'll see."

Those tawny eyes told Sarah that she would indeed…one day, "As long as they look like their father." Sarah stopped, shocked at her friend's words.

"You're joking right? Can you even imagine the amazing combinations you two could end up with?" Sarah could see it, just as she could see her own baby…either Jareth's blonde hair with her hazel eyes, a dreamy combination, or her raven hair with his bewitching eyes. Either way…but wow, she was easily distracted. "Can you imagine if that baby ends up with Cyric's chocolate locks and your golden eyes…wouldn't that be a heartbreaker combination? Not to mention if it got your platinum hair with that piercing pale blue of his. Oh," she let her imagination fly to the beautiful children that her friends would make. "You BETTER have kids!" Jeaule laughed, obviously enchanted by the thoughts she'd never figured on.

"I suppose I will have to, if only to test your theories."

"Damn straight, besides, we'll have to force at least one set of our beautiful offspring to love each other," Sarah joked. The two women laughed until they turned a corner and saw the most interesting sight of the day, Eireach, eyes transfixed on the training field below. There was no doubt in either of their minds of the why of it. "Is that something that's happening more regularly now?" Jeaule nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes that Sarah attributed to her newlywed status…even as she admitted that her own gaze probably looked much the same.

"Yes, ever since the battle, it seems like there is something more there than there was. You know that Sorsha took that arrow on purpose don't you?" Sarah was truly lost now. "Yeah…it's true. I didn't have to ask anyone to see it in her eyes. She took that arrow for him, jumped in the air behind him and let it sink into her leg instead."

Sarah's eyes widened, "Wow."

"Wow indeed."

It was there in his eyes, Sarah had seen something akin to that look once. But there was a fire in his eyes that had never been there for her. It brought a smile to her face to see it, he'd found her, the girl Sarah had sent him here for. She'd known he would, known that someone would catch his eye, even as he doubted it. Just as she knew that he hadn't loved her anymore, even when she'd first sent him here, his heart had been his own.

But no longer, she mused as she watched him, a slow smirk spreading over his face as he watch Sorsha below, "I'd say he's good and sunk, wouldn't you?"

"I'd say he's at the bottom of the sea, Sarah."

"Well…we'll just have to start prodding around Sorsha to see if it's mutual, won't we?" Jeaule giggled as Sarah turned away, letting Eireach have his time at the window, there were other hallways to cleanse.

**Kindraa** was STILL in one of her moods. Well, it was the ONLY damned mood she seemed to have since the battle and it was starting to get very old. In her temper, not only had she shredded half his clothing, but meat and sugars had become a very dim, very treasured memory for him. Damien was tired of dealing with the temper when he had no idea what had caused it, but she never said the why's of anything she did. So he'd have to risk asking.

He found her in his chambers, as he often did, fuming in front of a roaring fire. Her eyes seemed glued to the flames dancing in his expansive fireplace. Never before had such a blaze been lit in there. It was large enough for him to stand inside it with him arms outstretched, but since there was a fire larger than he inside the fireplace right now and a very ill tempered demon tending it…he didn't want to picture himself in there.

"Kindraa…?" His voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb her if she was in a mood to be quiet.

"I'm trying to see…."

"See what?"

"The girl," she answered simply. Since it was quite obvious he would get no more from her than that at the moment, he simply took the seat next to Kindraa and peered into the flames as she did. He tried to see what she was looking for, but was only rewarded with watering eyes. "She evaded me," Kindraa said a moment later, the flames falling to a charming, crackling fire.

"Who did?" Damien chanced asking, but Kindraa seemed amiable for the moment.

"Kael's girl."

"Oh, their female general," he said laughing derisively. Her hand was at his throat in an instant.

"Do not insult her, Damien." Tiny, warning flames spit at the ends of her hair and in those frightening red eyes of hers. "You insult her, you insult me." She let him go and her eyes went back to the fire, something distant and wrathful in them that unsettled him. "I want myself back."

**(A/N: Corny chapter title, I know, but oh man, I needed to get this chapter out for you guys, didn't want to skip again! So, two chapters posted within a few days of each other to make up for missing last Saturday…that sound good? Hope it does because that's exactly what I did. LOL Anywho…hope you enjoyed the chapter, not a lot going on besides some light being shone on Kindraa's own plans in this. LOL But yes, I know people haven't had much of a chance to review chapter 10, but these are those who have done so at this point and made me a happy chicka:**

**darklady26, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, notwritten and roguegambit**

**I know that there are other's of my faithful readers that will review, but alas, I have to post this chapter now, so your names are lost this week…my fault though. LOL I'll put your names TWICE on the next chapter's A/N…how does that sound? LOL)**


	12. Tent City Confessions

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Morning** dawned the next day, clear and bright in the soon to be winter kissed Easternlands. Crystallized dew clung valiantly to blades of grass, refusing…somewhat pointlessly…to give into the warming rays of the sun. Birds chirped merrily in their nests, mothers shielding their young from the cold with downy wings. Maids flitted about their chores, humming or whistling to themselves as they went along, almost as chipper as the birds in the trees. Even the way the fragile morning sunlight danced over her skin seemed joyful. The whole world seemed like some obnoxiously upbeat human cartoon today.

All they were missing was the damned singing sun, Sorsha mused bitterly. She hadn't at all appreciated being told to go off to some place Cyric, wasn't it so easy how she'd fallen into the habit of calling him that, had called Tent City. She'd quirked a brow at that, but even his hasty admission that it was a very bad temporary name, hadn't lifted her spirits.

Honestly, she sighed on the thought as she ran a hand back over her smoothed hair to make sure the bun was tight and secure at the base of her neck, she didn't mind going. She actually looked forward to the necessity of proving herself once more, for surely she'd need to. What she didn't like was getting thrown in with Eireach at the last moment…when she couldn't negotiate someone else.

But then, that was very unfair and cruel of her to think…and it was a WHOLE other mess for her mind to ache dully over for the next while. She didn't really hate the man, not any more at least, but neither did she like him. Well, she frowned…she did. Her brows drew together further as the frustration of her feelings settled in on her. Her no longer repulsed her, that was true enough. She'd sloughed off the brainwashing her father had drilled into her since infancy. It was hardly Eireach's fault that he was born a nobleman and he'd proved that they weren't all the same…so she really couldn't hold that against him any longer.

So no, she decided, she didn't HATE the man, but by the gods, she still wasn't comfortable around him. What the hell did they have in common, she wondered, falling into her thoughts. Nothing at all, she realized with an odd wave of resentment towards the fact. Her mind drifted further into itself, blurring the world around her.

Seriously though, what in all the worlds, could she even talk to him about? Besides battle and war, she groaned inwardly as she sent was sure to be the millionth curse on her father's soul. Men like Eireach didn't like girls like her, bred and raised to be battle toughened…rough and tomboyish. No, men like him wanted women who were cultured, soft and pretty like Jeaule and Sarah.

Or was she being to harsh on him still?

And why the hell was she even bothering herself over such a ridiculous topic?

She shook her head viciously to clear the rogue thoughts from her mind…and heard someone clearing their throat behind her.

"Um, are you alright?" Oh just perfect, Sorsha cringed to herself at Eireach's voice. Now he'd just think she was mental, lovely…she didn't care.

"I'm fine," she started, ignoring the fact that she hadn't said more than a few stringed words in quite a while. Fumbling for something to distract from her odd behavior came up with something that only made it worse, "There was a bee." Another inner cringe had her wishing that she was alone so she could smack herself. That had to be the stupidest, girliest…and from the look on Eireach's face…LEAST believable excuse she could have com up with.

"Alright."

"Aliright…."

"So are you ready?" he asked, giving her an excuse to drop the subject…she all but POUNCED on it.

"As ever." With their share of awkward silence, they teleported themselves to the banks of the Rialt River, the same that Jareth and Sarah had needed to cross on their way to the Easternlands…and the same she'd lived under her whole life. She banished the dark memories of her past as she stared out over the deep blue water, amazed as she'd always been by the power of it color. Before this, she'd been used to seeing the color filtered down through the crystal ceilings of the caverns.

"You okay?"

She couldn't help the grin, "You've made a real habit of asking that." The smirk lit his face.

"You've developed the habit of making me." The grin still on her face, and the depressing memories of childhood effectively smothered, she turned to look at the infamous Tent City that had been built by the Westernland refugees. It was…impressive…Sorsha deemed. Certainly no one could claim that the hundreds of tents and makeshift storefronts was beautiful, but because of her upbringing, she could at least call it impressive.

Tents were spread out pleasantly in the fields along the Rialt in a wonderful riot of color and texture. Sorsha admired the delicately woven fabrics of some as she despaired at the memories the poorer and rougher hewn materials brought to the surface. She did her best to ignore them as she and Eireach walked silently into the improvised city.

Tent City had been forewarned of their arrival, that much was painfully obvious. Men and women could be seen still straightening and tidying up the place and nearly every person in sight was dressed in fineries that Sorsha was sure weren't for everyday use. She could only hope with a sly smile to herself, that they had other clothes they wouldn't mind getting dirty. She was hardly going to choose soldiers based on pretty looks.

"AH!" The exclamation came from a large, jolly looking man at mid life, balding only at the top of his head so a half ring of salt and pepper hair still hung to his ears. His widespread arms were clothed in a long, deep crimson jacket that teased almost all the way to the knee, partially covering finely made black, velvety pants. His smile was generous, taking over his face with his pearly white splendor. "Lord Tur!" he beamed, shacking Eireach's hand before turning to her. "And the Lady Kael," he said with equal fervor and a short bow.

"General…" she amended. His smile stayed in place, but she could tell that she hadn't been silly to think she'd need to prove herself here as well.

"Of course." But, she noted, he didn't give her the title.

Yet, Sorsha thought…yet.

**Eireach** noted the demeaning gesture of not giving Sorsha her due title and filed this man away in the 'People NOT To Give The Land To' pile. He figured before the day was over, that pile was going to be overflowing, but he'd come up with AND been given many criteria to judge people on today. One of those points was someone who showed Sorsha her due respect without her having to earn it. Cyric had been very adamant on that point.

It made him grin to know how much trust and respect Sorsha had earned in the few months she'd been with them. But she had earned every bit of it and he was damned sure that everyone else would show her the respect she'd worked her tail off for.

Citizens were beginning to gather in greater numbers now that their identities had been bellowed by the rotund man who'd fashioned himself a leader here. For the briefest of moments, Eireach felt like they were back on the battlefield and had to fight the pulling urge to shove Sorsha behind him. But knowing, one…that Sorsha would likely not appreciate the gesture anyways…and two, no one here was a threat, he calmed himself.

The people around him didn't hold swords or battle axes; they held babies, food and other equally harmless objects. Actually, the highest risk, that he could see in the crowd, was a young boy with a dirt smudged face who was toting a ball and bat with him. Harmless indeed. He heard Sorsha whisper to their greeter, asking where it would be best to gather here.

When he pointed down the street, Sorsha nodded, turning her attention and her voice to the crowd, "Would all those who are interested in joining my troops please gather in your city square." Eireach was pleased on many levels with her simple statement. Her use of 'my troops' showed these men right off who the boss was when it came to those matters and the fact that she'd made it a command without commanding them. She'd always been a master of words and phrasing, he had to envy her tact and control.

But despite that, there were still a few choice pockets of dissention. He could hear men muttering on about how they weren't about to follow the orders of a mere woman…and he filed away the faces for later identification. Eireach knew that Sorsha heard the men, but he was sure that she was quite used to people underestimating her, no matter her lineage. And when he looked at her, he was right…the dangerously amused gleam in her eyes told him that these men were in for a good walloping.

For her or against her, the crowd thinned slowly. Men headed for the square, or what served for one anyways, either eager or grumbling. Young boys…and even a few brave girls…trailed behind them, giggling madly and brandishing imaginary swords. He kept Sorsha at his side as they made their way to the square. Even knowing that she might not want him there, he was her only ally here. The comfort of that knowledge, however reluctant, would help her through this.

Not that she REALLY needed him, he admitted as she walked into the middle of the square with only a quick smile back to him. The woman was a wrecking ball and woe to the man who tried to tell her she wasn't good enough. She would eventually bend all these men to her whim and they would wonder why they hadn't trusted her from the start. That was one of the things he loved so much about her. He started and shook his head in pity of himself.

Now wasn't that an annoying revelation?

How could he possibly be in love with the brusque, short tempered warrior who had made it painfully clear she didn't like him? As he watched her putting on much the same show as she had the first day he'd met her…he had his answer.

The better question was, how had he never realized how very beautiful she WAS, in her own way. He knew that she wasn't beautiful by traditional standards. She was shorter than most women of the court, but that only made her more the devil in battle, adding to her speed and agility. She by no means had the polish that women of the court did, never wore makeup or wore her hair down in the cascading waves that he'd always thought were so tantalizing. But again…as he looked at her now, that didn't diminish the fact that he found her delicious.

Never had he known a woman like her. He'd always been used to the kind of person who needed him, who rested on that very need of him like their lifeline. The fact that this woman obviously didn't need him was…refreshing. He knew she would take care of herself and once he talked her into loving him as well, she wouldn't adorn him, but compliment and enhance him. It was an amazing thought.

"Your woman is quite impressive, My Lord." It was the jolly man who'd demeaned Sorsha in front of him. He felt his temper stoked and calmed himself, chalking it up to being a bit drowned in his realization of love for the tempestuous woman on the field.

"She's not my woman," he said amiably, though he was thinking about what he was going to put himself through getting her to realize that she wanted to be just that. It would be hell. Eireach decided that he was certifiably insane for looking forward to it. "You know my name sir, but what is yours?" So I can file it away, he added to himself.

"They call me Nialle and I'm sorry for assuming." He nodded to where Sorsha was flipping a man over her shoulder. Eireach grinned as he dismissed the apology. "Please sir, let me show you around." He agreed and spent the next few hours meeting with some of the most influential men in Tent City. He was relatively pleased with what and who he had seen and figured that he had the men in mind who would end up with those coveted lands.

One was a man named Pitte, tall dark and generous of nature. His family was bred in the bone farmers and had loathed to leave their lands, but refused to work that land as long as Damien sat on the throne. He'd made a comment on how much they all missed his father's rule and how it was a damned shame that he wasn't sitting on the throne right now…for surely he'd be a better king than that bastard Damien. Eireach remembered the family, their lands had been near the border of Dendum and they'd always been kind and giving people.

He bid the men goodbye when he saw Sorsha heading towards them. She was covered in dirt and had a few scrapes and bruises along her arms…and she looked perfect. Judging himself insane for finding a beat up Sorsha attractive, he decided to repent by being nice to her, if she wanted it or not. Eireach took the jacket from her hands, pleased that she didn't fight him or even throw a snide remark his way when he helped her into it. That should have been his first clue that something wasn't quite right, but he didn't pick anything up until he saw her eyes.

There was something dark there, something sad and tired, but that wasn't even the right word. Haunted, he thought…that was more like it. He'd seen her like this only once before and she'd ended up unconscious in his arms that time. As much as he would have liked that at the moment, he didn't want her to end up there because she'd passed out.

So for the third time that day, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"So concerned," she teased.

"You look sad." She sighed and for one terrifying moment, he thought she'd do just as he'd hoped she wouldn't and pass out right into his arms.

"Just a lot of bad memories surfacing today, it's frustrating that's all." She tucked a strand of hair that had managed to escape back into the bun at her neck as she looked around Tent City. It surprised him how much he wanted to pull her hair free, to see what it felt like in his fingers, to simply find out how long it was. "This place just reminds me of where I grew up." She sighed slowly again, "I haven't been looking forward to this, but I suppose that everyone will have to know sooner or later."

"You make it sound terrible."

"Let's go back, I'll tell you all at once so I don't have to think of that place more than that." He knew now how to handle the suddenly bruised and fragile emotion in her eyes. All he did was place an arm around her shoulder, rubbing at one arm companionably, but saying nothing. It warmed something in the core of him that she didn't slough off his arm from her shoulder.

"So did you find anyone promising?" He saw the relief in the relaxation of her muscles, that he wasn't going to press the matter right now.

"There were a few that managed to get a hand on me," she said with a cheeky grin.

"Well, they better not get used to it." Her brows and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement as Eireach realized…a bit late…how vehemently he's said it. He wasn't sure if she stayed quiet to lessen or deepen his embarrassment, but was sure that either could have been true. He'd only just realized the depth of what he felt for her, but he wasn't exactly ready to let her know it just yet.

So in a silence that was awkward and amusing for each in turn, they teleported back to Cyric's castle. When he looked down at her again, her features had settled back into those grim, troubled lines. Where could her father have forced her to grow up that as so horrible? They walked together in silence, searching for their friends.

"Can I help you?" Kessy's affable tones shattered their silence and set his nerves on edge. He'd developed the inability to be around the girl more than a few minutes. Her annoyingly meek nature simply grated at his nerves in a way he knew they shouldn't, but couldn't help.

"Do you know where their Highnesses are?" Sorsha asked, relieving him of the obligation to address the mouse.

Kessy's eyes lit with admiration at the mention of Cyric and Jeaule, "Oh they're in their rooms with their Majesties of the Goblin Kingdom."

"Thank you." The maid bowed slightly, which he noticed made Sorsha flinch.

"Can I have anything sent up to the royal suite for you?" Eireach knew that she meant a change of clothes from the way she looked Sorsha up and down, but her voice never reflected it. Her voice was sugar coated, lilting…and set his teeth to grinding.

"No thank you, Kessy," he answered after a quick glance to Sorsha who shook her head, he wasn't about to answer for her. "I think we have everything we need." Sorsha nodded in agreement. Again the mousy blonde bowed, her bright blue eyes, nearly the color of the river they'd seen that day, still dancing with adoration for her masters.

They turned and headed down the hallway and once Kessy was out of sight, he saw Sorsha shake her body to rid herself of willies, "Thank the gods, I'm not the only one!" he exclaimed, genuinely relieved that he wasn't alone…so he wasn't a total bastard.

"There's just something about her that gives me the willies," Sorsha said, a pained grimace on her face. "She just too-"

"Nice…I know." He knocked on Cyric and Jeaule's door and waited for their friends to answer, dying inside to know where Sorsha had grown up.

**Damien** sat at his throne, content and peaceful for the first time since the battle they'd lost. Kindraa had slipped out of her funk as easily as she'd fallen into it and had set up a pleasant little party for him. He was sure that it was because she wanted something from him, but how could he refuse good food and entertainment? He couldn't, he justified as he ripped into a particularly juicy turkey thigh.

The juices ran down his fingers and chin, but, he mused with a piggy little grin, that's how you knew it was cooked properly. He watched the brightly clothed dancers, more intrigued by their clothes than their movements, as he bemoaned the tragedies of overcooked turkey to a very disinterested Kindraa. Even as he eyed a delectable looking pie that steamed happily at the far end of the table, he ripped at the thigh again and turned to Kindraa.

"So what do you want " He asked, turkey bits flopping out of his mouth. Pudgy fingers found the stray pieces and popped them back in.

"A great many thing," she answered, her long fingers pinching at her nose in disgust. "But so very few that you can actually give me." Damien rolled his eyes as he tossed the bony remnants of the thigh to his plate.

"I'm not in the mood for your riddles, Kindraa. What do you want?"

A smile played on her darkly painted lips, "A battle." Damien guffawed and waved his juice covered hand absently.

"Is that all?" He clapped for a servant and gestured greedily to the pie. "Send them out then, I have little care for lives."

"Unless it's yours."

"Naturally." The pie was placed in front of him and he breathed in the intoxicating scent of cherries…his favorite.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I played a little?" Her voice had a dangerous undercurrent. If voice could light afire, he thought, that's what he would call hers.

"With what?" he asked cautiously with red stained lips.

"With WHOM," she corrected him. "Namely the General Kael."

"What do you want with her?" Gods that cherry pie was good…extra sugar, just the way he liked it.

"Just a bit of her blood," Kindraa answered on a purr.

"What the hells for?" That was just sick. Who wanted nasty blood around? Didn't she know how easily blood stained beautiful fabrics?

"I plan to mess with the girl's mind a bit, weaken her with her own fears and insecurities." Then the fire was back, that fire he'd seen in her since they lost the battle to this very girl. "And eventually…I'll get that piece of me back too." His brows rose warily as her fingers clenched in on themselves.

"Very well then," he told her, shoving the last bit of pie in his mouth. Gods, that was good.

**Jareth** stood courteously as Eireach took a seat. Sorsha remained standing because she 'didn't want to ruin the sofa.' He sat back down and Sarah took her place in his lap again. With the weight of his wife resting pleasantly in his lap he looked over at Sorsha, who seemed to feel so out of place amongst them all the time.

"We came here to tell you how it went today," she said before continuing a bit reluctantly. "And also for me to get something off my chest, about where I grew up." Jareth read her eyes readily enough.

"It burdens you, this secret."

"Yes." It was a sigh and a release of pressure, he realized. The poor thing must have been dwelling on this for quite a while. Tucking his wife more securely into his arms, he settled in for the story he was sure would be interesting if nothing else. "It would probably be easier to just show you."

Jareth arched a brow slowly, "Show…?" He had a sinking feeling he knew what he was going to see, but there was no way…the place was a myth. Wasn't it? As he looked around, he knew that everyone, other than he wife who wouldn't know of it anyways, was waiting with baited breath.

There was a soft communal intake as Sorsha unbuttoned her top as they'd expected her to. When she lowered the back of it to reveal her shoulders, Jareth shifted Sarah from his lap and stood up.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, suddenly worried by the deathly silence that mixed with shock in the air. Jareth heard her, but his eyes were locked on the circular knot design nestled between Sorsha's shoulder blades. Before this, the only time he'd seen the intertwining snakes had been in children's stories that warned children of the dangers of greed.

His fingers itched to trace the arch of the snake's backs, to see if it was merely a mark or worse yet, a brand. In a village populated by the worst scum of the Underground, he wouldn't put it past them to brand anyone…even a child. But his hands stayed at his sides, he wasn't about to touch another woman in that way, no matter the curiosity. Eireach didn't seem to have that inhibition though. His face was next to Jareth's in an instant, his eyes intent on the snakes that seemed to dance when her shoulders stiffened.

Eireach's hands reached out, his fingers brushing the skin lightly, "Underflow." His whisper sent shivers and a trail of goose bumps over Sorsha's skin.

"Underflow," she confirmed miserably.

Jareth shook his head, "Impossible."

"I assure you, as I've seen it with my own eyes and lived there most of my life, that it's completely possible."

Cyric let out a long, impressed whistle as Jareth simply stared, unable to completely believe what he was seeing and hearing, but there it was, staring him blankly in the face. He turned to Sarah as Sorsha buttoned her shirt back up. It was certain that his wife's questing mind would be bursting to know what was compelling them into this silence. In fact, he was amazed she hadn't spouted off yet.

"Underflow isn't supposed to exist," he told his wife.

She gave him a bland stare before grinning, "I'd gathered that much silly. I suppose that means you have been proven wrong." Sarah smiled up at him with that smirk that told him one of her witty remarks was well on the way. He awaited it with a challenging grin of his own. "Just promise not to throw her into an oubliette for it."

"I promise nothing."

"So what was it like?" Jeaule asked, obviously unable to wait any longer to hear it. "And please sit, don't worry about the chair."

"Thank you, that would be much better."

Jareth smirked when Eireach jumped from the chair and offered it to Sorsha, but was intrigued all the further when she didn't scold him for the gesture. She seemed to sink into the chair with her weariness and Eireach perched himself on the arm with his hand braced on the back of the chair. Jareth wondered if she was finally comfortable around him or if she was simply too tired to fight him, but Jareth had never seen her too tired to bite at Eireach.

Cyric had a hold of his wife's hand, but it was Jeaule who seemed more apprehensive on how to react to the news. His Sarah had sat down next to her friend, taking her friend hand. Jareth chose to sit on the arm of the couch and watched Sorsha gather her thoughts.

"First off, before you ask…if you know the story, which it's obvious you do…you know I can't tell you where Underflow is." Her hand tapped her shoulder, "That prevents me."

"Then just tell us, is it like the story?" Cyric asked, trying not to appear to eager. Of all of them, he seemed the least disturbed by the thought of Sorsha growing up in Underflow. Maybe a bit of that childhood danger had crept into his mind, that point between boy and man where every child thought it might be fun to run off and live in the city under the river.

Sorsha shrugged, "The crystal ceiling is, it was the only thing that was worth it there." Jareth watched her eyes glaze at what he was sure was the only good memory of her past. "It's clear crystal, ragged like the stone around it in the cavern, but during the day, when the sunlight streamed through the blue of the river coursing like azure blood above us…it was magic."

"So beyond being forced to live with your father, is it as bad as the stories say? Is it really populated with thieves?" Jareth knew that his approach to the delicate emotions wasn't far from complete insensitivity, but there was no changing the way that he was built.

"Yes, it is…and not the Robin Hood kind either." Jareth was sure of that. Underflow was the not-so-mythical town of the banished thieves. Not the petty pickpockets, but the men who would kill for even the smallest and most insignificant of scores. It was hardly the place for a young girl to grow up.

"Well, you made it through," Eireach said, placing his hand on Sorsha's shoulder. "And relatively sane." Jareth was glad for the smile that put on her face and vowed, as he was sure his wife and the others were, to spend more time with the girl.

**(A/N: Another chapter down, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Another nod to one of my favorite movies in this chapter…a candy for whoever can tell me where and what movie!! LOL The readers who reviewed last week and made me FEEL like I'd gotten some lovely candy were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kaline Reine, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**Thanks guys and much love to all of you!!)**


	13. Bonding

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Something** was unsettling Jareth, that much Sarah could tell, but it bothered her more than she didn't know WHAT was unsettling him. Ever since they slight bump in her belly had started showing, his nerves had seemed to calm. He still fussed over her, she mused, but it was no longer that nearly annoying insistence that she not move. It was wonderful to know how much he loved her and the life growing within her, but it was ever better not to be treated like a piece of fragile crystal anymore.

But she also knew that this wasn't the reason Jareth was silent, looking out a window that faces towards his own kingdom. Because she didn't want to ask just yet, she studied his profile against the sky. She'd always appreciated the masculine beauty that was her husband. He wasn't ruggedly or roguishly handsome like Cyric, with that wicked little twinkle in his eye that made you giggle like a school girl. Nor did he have that rangy, bookish good looks that Eireach encompassed, with that boyish curl to his hair countering the intelligence you could see at all times in his eyes.

No, of all the men that had graced her life, she preferred none quite like she did the man before her right now. His hair, not quite as overly fluffed and glittery as it had been all those years ago when she'd walked the Labyrinth, was still wild about his shoulders. It pushed back from a face she'd come to depend on with every gentle breeze that whispered through the window.

His body, every toned, long limbed inch of him was a delight to her, one she hoped never stopped surprising and thrilling her. She knew what he felt like beneath, above and beside her, had memorized every touch. His devilishly talented lips were curved down in a frown that pulled at her heart. And then there were those eyes.

Those eyes, she thought with a pleasant roll of her insides, that could shelter what eh thought so well, but only from other, always others, never her. That blue/green gaze turned to her then, the lips she itched to kiss turned up at the corners at seeing her, but she could tell something still bothered him. Without a word, he held out a hand for her and she crossed to him without adding any just yet. He pulled her back to his chest and she rested back against him as he rested his cheek on her hair.

She squeezed one of the hands wrapped at her waist, "What's wrong love?"

"It's nearly winter," he told her cryptically. That was true enough, Sarah figured. If she had to place them in an Aboveground month, she might have guessed early November. The trees outside were no longer a riot of Autumn hues, but naked bark awaiting Spring buds. She said nothing as she waited for Jareth to tell her in his own time. "There was always a ball in the Goblin Kingdom at Christmas…it was my mother's favorite party of the year." So there it was, and how cute was that? Jareth missed home and his mother.

"We could have it here," she offered.

He turned hopeful eyes to her, "Really?"

"Of course. We can have your mother out and I'm sure Jeaule would love it. Between me and those two, I'm sure we could make something spectacular."

"It would be a good way to Cyric and Jeaule to break the ice with more of the nobles," Jareth said, trying to make it less about making him happy and more about helping friends. Gods bless him, but he still looked like an eager boy.

Sarah was willing to play along with it though, "You know what else makes it a wonderful idea?" His eyes were narrowed and guarded…she knew he expected her to tease him. She really hated to disappoint, but…. "It might be a chance to get Eireach and Sorsha to stop dancing around each other."

"It just might," Jareth jumped to agree, perhaps a bit too quickly. Quickly enough anyways that Sarah couldn't help the smirk. "You have a devious little mind, don't you my love?"

"Indeed I do, it's one of the reasons you love me so much.

"Amongst many others, yes." He leaned down to kiss her and she let herself melt into his embrace. Here was home, she sighed. It wasn't the sad life she'd left behind in the Aboveground. It wasn't even the place she'd found for herself in the Goblin Kingdom. No, she thought as she rested her hand over the steady beat of his heart, it was right here…and she loved that.

She pushed herself back from him with a smile on her lips, "Okay enough of this sappiness." His own smile spread as she teased him.

"I agree," he said, pretending to straighten his shirt. "You, Madame, seem unable to restrain yourself when it comes to me." She chuckled as she really wrinkled his shirt with a bear hug and another toe tingling kiss.

"It appears you know me far too well, Goblin King," she purred. "I'll have to change my tactics." His brow quirked, intrigued but the detour his thoughts had taken. Good, she preened smugly, that was exactly what she wanted him to think. "I'll have to go hang out with the girls to give your ego time to cool down."

The wind visibly fell from his sails as his shoulders slumped, "That was evil love…evil." He didn't look so very pained for long, so she knew it was a show. "So…girls?"

"Jeaule…and Sorsha."

Jareth's laughter was rich and mocking, "Good luck with that one. Somehow, I can't see that woman giggling as you all paint each others toenails."

Sarah smiled back at him cheekily, "But that's just a myth we women created to keep menfolk from barging in on us." An elegant blonde brow arched in renewed interest.

"Oh really?"

"Really. We actually sit around in our underwear talking about our men's virtues and having pillow fights."

"Really…" he said again, obviously envisioning such an evening. She crossed to him and kissed his cheek lovingly.

"No."

"Damn it Sarah…STOP giving my hopes up, you she-devil!" She laughed again, always one to enjoy their byplay.

"Sorry love, but we aren't usually stereotypical on EITHER side of the male interest meter." He pouted at that and she wanted to nip at the petulant lip. "So why don't you go hang out with the men and…I don't know what you guys do…drink and scratch your butts."

Jareth gasped theatrically, "How do you know about that?" She smacked him playfully before she headed for the door.

"Find Cyric first and feel him out about the ball, but keep it between us, Cyric and Jeaule for a bit. Jeaule and I have some work to do on a rather reluctant pupil first." Jareth laughed as she walked out to find Jeaule…and then Sorsha.

**Eireach** had finally found himself a moment alone. It had been a week since the Tent City trip and his awkwardly timed stumble into love with, quite possibly, the most abrasive woman he'd ever met. In that week, he'd seen her only a handful of times as he'd found himself slammed with all the paperwork that went with helping Cyric set Pitte up with some of those farmlands as he'd predicted. He shook those thoughts from his mind, not wanting to be bothered with work anymore that day.

He did, however, wish to spend some time by himself with a good book and his merry little fire. If his mind wandered from the history of the Mer-people within The Great Lake, was that his fault? Certainly not. Was it his fault that the story blurred and his mind slipped into an odd daydream that was surely induced by the feelings he was still holding so closely to himself? He didn't think so.

_Her hair was down, that was the first thing he noticed. It was all the same simple shade of sandy brown that one could see even while latched back into its ruthless bun, but it was a lovely surprise to see that it was long enough for its ends to tease the tops of her breasts. His hands itched to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked, but it seemed that she took one step back for every one he took forward…because he couldn't get any nearer to her._

_Her face was painted with that mysterious mastery of colors that every woman appeared to have been born with, but it didn't seem right. She looked gorgeous, but his mind wasn't pleased with the effect. She looked like everyone else, he realized. In his mind, he wiped the false color from her cheeks, even added a little smudge of dirt to her cheek with a grin. Now her face looked like the natural Sorsha he knew, now her face looked right._

_She was wearing, he realized next, a lavish, full skirted gown that was fit for a queen. He tried desperately to ignore the quick stab of anger at the fantasy that he could have made her one if it weren't for that fat bastard's father. Instead of his anger, he focused on the image of Sorsha and he realized that, while she looked gorgeous in the dress, the vibrant, rich yards of material didn't look…right. _

_He simply couldn't imagine her actually allowing herself in a dress like that, with the full skirt billowing out at the hips into mountains and waterfalls of material around her legs. Without seeing it, he knew the tulle under the main skirt would set her legs to itching uncomfortably. She would probably rip a gown like that to shreds before she let it touch her skin…so what was it doing on her body?_

_Once again, his mind altered her the way he wanted to see her and when he was done with the alterations, he smirked laughingly to see that it was Sorsha as he saw her everyday._

Perhaps it was as simple as that? He liked her, LOVED her, just the way she was. Eireach slapped the arm of his chair with purpose and decided to go find her. There as no time like the present to start getting her used to the idea of being in love with him. There was a knock on the door that halted his steps. Could it be that she had been thinking of him too?

"Damn, Eireach…open the door." Cyric's teasing voice shattered his hopes, but it didn't take the smile from his lips. He opened the door and was surprised to see no only Cyric, but Jareth as well.

"Well, isn't this a welcome invasion?" Jareth and Cyric just smiled at him and passed him a bottle of finely aged cognac. "VERY welcome."

"The hens are gathering today for their mysterious feminine rituals," Cyric told him on a chuckle.

"So we decided to come over, drink and scratch our butts."

Eireach simply stared at Jareth in disbelief for a moment before the laughter ripped from him, "Sarah's words, no doubt."

"None other."

"Well," Eireach said, popping open the cognac. "I'm all for the drinking, but I'll have to be wasted before I start scratching my butt."

Three…or was it four glasses later? Either way…three or four empty glasses later, he felt relaxed for sure, but his butt, thankfully, remained unitched. They'd shared stories of childhood conquests…and failures. The alcohol had helped loosened lips and inhibitions in that area, he admitted. Conquests were always fun to admit to…as long as they were good ones. Cyric had wisely omitted his months with Medb, but his lips had been loosened enough to admit to a certain Duchess who had both Jareth and Eireach cringing, even as they laughed their sides sore.

"I CAN'T believe you touched her with a five meter pole, let alone your own hands!" Eireach teased as Cyric frowned into his latest glass of cognac.

"She's a beautiful woman…"

"But she's a bitch." Jareth's candid answer had Eireach rolling anew.

Cyric shrugged, unable to deny that fact, "I guess before I fell for my Jeaule, I had very questionable taste in women."

Jareth and Eireach raised their glasses in agreement, "Here, here!"

"So what about future conquests?" Jareth asked nonchalantly once they'd all gotten bored of ribbing Cyric…and it got Eireach's back up.

"Well, the two of you are married, so I suppose that you two are retired from the conquest business." His friends shared a conspiratorial smile that told him he was toast. "Fine," he said, downing the last of glass five…he thought. "So you two have guessed that I have a thing for Sorsha?"

"Eireach, Steve Wonderful could have figured that one out by now."

Eireach furrowed his brow, "I don't think that's his name, but thanks, Jareth," he sighed. "Someone might want to tell that to Sorsha though."

"I'm sure she knows…or at least has an idea." Cyric didn't sound completely confident with his theory though. "I don't know…she's kind of like a guy that way, not noticing things you do."

Eireach took another sip of the amber liquid, taking a long, slow inhale as it warmed the back of his throat, "Well then, now I know why that bothers women so much." He turned the glass in his hands, watching with a cheery buzz, as the liquid sloshed in the crystal. "I know she's a little difficult to understand," Eireach told them, ignoring the snorts that said they figured that an understatement, as he pushed a hand through his curls. "But I guess that's just one of the things I love about her. I love knowing how things work." Cyric and Jareth sat in their chairs, frozen as they stared at him, their glasses both halfway to their lips…and both thoroughly amused.

"You're sunk," was all Jareth said.

"Gods, don't I know it."

"We'll help soften her up a bit for you," Cyric promised with an alcohol induced crooked smile. "I'm sure the girls are doing their best on her right now as a matter of," he hiccupped, "fact."

Eireach chuckled to think of a waylaid Sorsha at the mercy of her queens. She would do whatever they wanted her to because of their titles. He could see it in his mind and knew she'd try to get out of it, insisting to them that she liked how she looked already. She would ultimately give in, the barrage that was Sarah and Jeaule wouldn't give up easily, but she'd seethe on the inside as they fussed over her.

Oh yeah, he thought as he eased back into his chair and lifted glass six…was it six? As he lifted whatever damn glass it was to his lips and talk eased back into other topics, he praised the gods that he'd been born male.

**Sorsha** wasn't praising gods over alcohol that stung pleasantly as it slid down her throat. No, she'd just finished a grappling match with some of her new recruits that had made their way from Tent City. There were many VERY promising soldiers in that bunch, she thought as she wiped the dirt from her hands halfheartedly.

"There she is," Sorsha heard from behind her.

"Told you she'd be here."

"I didn't' argue with you did I?" Sorsha turned and gave Sarah and Jeaule a pained smile.

"What did I do this time?" She teased. Those two had been making a point to hand around with her at least once a day since she'd told them the last of her dirty laundry.

"Absolutely nothing," Sarah said in a congenial tone that told Sorsha she was in for something she would find trying. "We've just decided to see if you want to come out and play with us.

"So what do you say?" Jeaule asked with her all-too-innocent voice and those big, pleading amber eyes that made Sorsha groan amiably.

"Do I really have a choice?" Obviously pleased with that answer, Sarah threaded her arm through Sorsha's, unconcerned with the fact that Sorsha was covered in dirt, and led the way to the castle.

"Not even a little bit," she smiled over at Sorsha.

"So what are you two planning to do to me?" she asked in the same amusedly suffering tone.

Jeaule giggled and turned to Sarah, "I told you we wouldn't fool her for a minute."

"Well aren't you just getting everything right today?" Sorsha wasn't sure how to deal with their laughing chatter. She hadn't been around girls when she was growing up, her father hadn't allowed it.

'Girls will make you weak,' he'd said. And for the reason of simple spite, she allowed herself to be pulled along in their wake. But her resolve was short lived when she walked into Jeaule's rooms and saw the array of gowns and facial paints that she had no doubts were meant for her.

Sarah felt her stop in the doorway and pulled her in, "Oh come on," she pouted prettily. "We aren't going to hurt you."

"You're going to put in me THOSE," she said with a sneer as she pointed to the dresses spread over the bed that Jeaule was already sifting through. "I don't look right in those," she insisted, deciding she'd rather shred one slowly and burn the pieces to ash before letting herself be corseted up into one.

"Just play with us this once," Jeaule pleaded with those amber doe eyes of hers again.

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, giving Sorsha a playful poke. "And if you look as much like a freak as you think you, we'll leave you alone about it forever." She held her pinky out in a human gesture of promise that made Sorsha smirk. But she weighed her choices carefully as she stared at that pinky. If she fought them tooth and nail on it, they'd bug her relentlessly until she gave in, but if she just gave in…that might be easier. She would end up proving her point that she looked ridiculous in chiffon…they'd cringe and agree and leave her be.

"Fine," she huffed, locking pinkies with Sarah. There was a secret part of her that hoped they would still hang out with her, even when they found out she didn't dress up well.

"Call Kessy up with some tea, won't you hun?" Sarah asked Jeaule. Sorsha's lip curled before she could stop it and Sarah leaned in, whispering so Jeaule wouldn't hear them. "I know…she gives me the heebie jeebies too, but Jeaule's taken too her…kind of a wounded bird thing I guess." She winked down at Sorsha. "So we'll just have to buck it up together."

Kessy flowed in a few minutes later, steaming tea on the silver tray, as Jeaule and Sarah were sifting through the dresses, "Oh those are lovely," she sighed wistfully. She set the tray down and Sorsha grumbled her thanks, nervously eyeing the sage green dress Sarah and Jeaule seemed to agree on. "Aren't you playing too?" Kessy asked.

"Unfortunately." She eyed the tea now, wishing it were something a bit more substantial. "Got anything I could spike this stuff with?" Kessy only laughed at her.

Sarah frowned over at Sorsha, though there was a quirk to her lips, "Oh hush you." Despite herself, Sorsha grinned.

"I guess I'll wash this layer of grime off if I'm getting near those," she said, heading for the bathroom.

"Might want to bring her that Scotch after all, Kessy…" Sorsha heard Sarah say and rolled her eyes playfully. "Because that's not ALL we're doing."

**Kindraa** had taken to pacing in the week since she'd asked him to attack the Easternlands. It unnerved him, that steady click of her heels against stone. And there she was again, he thought testily as he entered his rooms to change from his lunch attire…it was filthy, of course…pacing before the open window. Her face was set in grim lines that he could care less about, but her eyes…those red eyes…were smoldering behind the curtain of her straight chestnut hair.

Damien wasn't sure if he should say anything to her, so he simply picked his new outfit, something flashy, glittery…something YELLOW. But the constant click, click, clicking broke his happiness with his wardrobe. She'd become increasingly irritable…or more so than she was every day…over the week as she usually did when things weren't going as she'd wanted them to. He wasn't entirely in agreement with her reasons for waiting to attack, but he bit his check, not in the mood for another of her 'wanting to take them by surprise so she could wreak havoc before they even knew she was there' speeches.

A light shimmered next to Kindraa's head, he noticed as he slipped into the yellow blazer. He recognized it as the crystal that belonged to Kindraa's contact at Cyric's castle, as much as it pained him to think of it thusly. As always when Kindraa saw the crystal, that fiercely possessive and angry look sent shadows around her eyes and fire at the tips of her hair.

He knew she wanted that piece of her back, though it was more attainable than the piece sealed within the bitch General of Cyric's. Damien thoroughly hoped that a soldier was able to get some of that girl's blood so he wouldn't have to hear about how Kindraa would never be whole again anymore. Across the room, the floating crystal shimmered once more and he heard that voice, that voice that reminded him of poison laced candy.

"Everyone is occupied, my Lady, your time for attack has come."

It took effort, Damien realized as he buttoned up the blazer as best he could, to turn his eyes from the demonically pleased grin on Kindraa's face.

**Sorsha** hadn't needed the Scotch, but she'd been right to grumble over that sage green dress, she figured as she looked down at herself with another groan. That earned her another withering glance form Sarah.

"You really are a big baby," she said, smiling and poking Sorsha's side again.

"Give me PANTS and a sword and I'd make you eat those words," Sorsha smiled at Sarah in sugar coated promise before she looked down at the ridiculous contrast of her rough, calloused, warriors hands against the soft chiffon. "But at the moment…I'll simply agree with you." Jeaule laughed lightly as she brought over a small jar of something that smelled floral and feminine. "What is that?" Sorsha asked, cautiously eyeing the jar Jeaule was dipping her fingers into.

"It's a scented lotion." She caught the deer-in-the-headlights stare Sorsha was throwing at the jar. "I said scented lotion, not poisoned potion silly. Relax."

Sorsha shook her head, "Can't you just use that…" she trailed off, miming spritzing perfume, though that name wouldn't' come to mind. "…you know that stuff."

""PERFUME," Sarah informed her with a wicked grin, "is just one layer of the scenting process."

"Oh gods, kill me now…"

"I don't' think they'd spare you." Jeaule smirked down at her, a dollop of crème on her fingers.

"Damn it." But as they slathered her arms with the crème, the smile found its way to her face. She decided to simply surrender herself to their ministrations and was shocked to find that she started having fun.

"I think we might have proven you wrong." Sorsha was about to laugh at the ridiculousness of Sarah's words when Jeaule uncovered the mirror. They'd kept her from seeing herself as they worked and now she knew why. Now she simply stared, dumbfounded at the reflection that stared back at her.

Her hair flowed down just past her shoulders, the simple sandy brown turning to golden hazed wheat as her natural highlights shimmered throughout it. She'd always thought it stringy and a hindrance in battle, but these two have managed to make it look almost elegant…almost. It was still too odd seeing her hair around her shoulders when she'd been used to it slicked back and practical her whole life.

They'd painted her face with that womanly magic she'd never been taught how to harness. The soft green tones complimented the dress, to be sure, but they also brought out green flecks in her eyes that she hadn't even known were there. And, though she really didn't want to admit it, that damned dress did wonders for her.

And yet, even with all those yards of fabric and the beautiful makeup…it didn't feel…right. And the damn tulle was itching like a bitch.

"GENERAL!!!" The head of Jareth's Goblin army, which he'd brought with him to protect Sarah on the journey east, dashed into the room, fear soaked every syllable. "They're attacking!!"

"Damn it! Go get me my swords! Fast!" The goblin ran from the room at record speed. "Jeaule," Sorsha called out, already making quick plans in her mind.

"Yes?" Jeaule's eyes were set and Sorsha knew she was ready for battle. That's what made this so hard.

"They aren't supposed to be here, but they are and I need you to stay here with Sarah."

"But-"

"NO buts, I'm your General and what happens if…gods forbid…they get in? What would Sarah do?" Sarah opened her mouth, no doubt to say she could take care of herself. "I know you can, Sarah, but ease my mind and your husband and let me leave someone here that we'd both trust protecting you." The two seemed to accept that and she was grateful for it, she didn't have time to argue the fact.

"I'll stay," Jeaule said, putting an arm around Sarah, who looked like she wanted to be out there as well. Sorsha knew that if she wasn't pregnant, she probably would be a fierce, frightening dark angel on the battlefield.

"Here you go General." The goblin had come back with her swords and with no little regret, she sliced the skirt to her thigh and the material pooled at her feet. She leapt from it and as she ran from the room, she felt her hair magicked up into a ponytail. She only had a moment to find it comically ironic that she was going into battle without a helmet once more.

**(A/N: Another chapter down and yet another cliffhanger. I missed leaving you on one. ******** I figured I'd been nice long enough and decided to leave ya here. I love you all and I hope you still love me even though I've left you with the cliffy. BIG thanks to my sis, darklady26, who helped me out with the chapter this week! She's great for a few ideas. ******** The readers who read, reviewed and made my week last chapter were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101 and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys!)**


	14. Unwarrented Accusations

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Sorsha** tore through the hallways without a spare thought to the shredded trail of the skirts flying like broken pale green wings around her legs. She knew what a sight she must have made for the terrified maids that skittered out of her way as she ran, but her mind wasn't on vanity she'd never experienced in her life anyways. Her brain was flooded by the fury at the audacity he had to attack this very castle at the cusp of winter like this, fear for friends…one of whom held life and as she saw Eireach stumble towards her…irritation.

His eyes were slightly glazed and told her before he opened his mouth that the boys had been drinking. It was true that irritation coursed hot through her veins like her very blood, but for the first time in her life, she bit her tongue. She wouldn't yell at him for this. It was hardly his fault that the bastard Damien had decided to attack today. None of them had expected an attack this close to Winter, hadn't even let it cross their minds. Stupid, she condemned herself; SHE should have figured that Kindraa might talk him into something like this.

The underhanded, sneaky move was just like her. Damien might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but Kindraa…she had a brain. She was someone that Sorsha couldn't forget about. If anything happened to those she cared about now…she would never forgive herself for her blind ignorance. She let her eyes focus back on Eireach's foggy eyes, quickly sobering in the frantic scramble to prepare for the surprise.

"What do you think you're doing?" Eireach's voice confused and irritated her further.

"Me?" she snipped, realizing she wasn't going to be as nice as she'd wanted to. "You're the one boozing your way to the battle." She took her pace back up, heading out of the castle, her swords singing at her side, ready for the battle to begin.

"Buzzed or not, at least I had the brains to put on my armor."

"Oh, I'm sorry…I was in a hurry to get to the battle." Her temper unfurled in tangible waves of magic around her. "I was a little more concerned with making sure Sarah would be protected than worrying about my armor."

The snarl in his voice was unmistakably aggravated, "You had enough thought in your head to slice that dress to shreds." That stung her…she should have thought of her armor, should have had the goblin grab that as well. She hadn't and it was too late to run after it now, but she wasn't about to concede that to Eireach. So she fell back on habit and snapped at him.

"Well, I'm sorry that I offended your nobleman sensibilities."

"Oh stuff your temper," he said and waved a wrist. Her armor materialized around her and had her breath catching in her throat. Oh she felt supremely stupid. Why hadn't she just done that? It would have been simple enough. Instead of breaking herself down further and admitting that to Eireach, she did her best not to even break stride. He had other plans, "Hold it," he said grabbing her arm.

"Oh what now?" she asked, finally noticing that he hadn't bothered to change her out of the dress, merely placed her armor over it. She looked ridiculous, she decided, but smirked.

"You'll need this." She looked down in his hands and chuckled when she saw her helmet.

"Thanks…." Together, they pushed through the crowds of soldiers working their way through the main hall doors. "I'm tired of running into the middle of fights," she shouted over to Eireach with a vicious gleam in her eyes.

He smiled with a gleam in his eyes that matched her own, "Then let's go start one of our own."

They did just that, the teeth of her sword biting into enemies and the singing arc of his long sword slicing through the air. Eireach grunted as his sword slammed into tough bone and set his own to rattling from the impact. Her swords did more damage, their blue edges already stained with blood, thanks to the serrated teeth that ripped through stubborn flesh.

There was a bitter stench of fresh blood in the air and cries of the wounded and dying assaulted her senses. She let the sights and sounds absorb into her, forced herself to become the swords in her hands. There was no time for sympathy, no time to care who or what she was hacking into. One moment of distraction could lead to wounds more grievous than a simple arrow in her leg.

Her magic circled around her, lending her a sensory shield that let her know when and where an attack was coming from. She sensed the men coming at her, front and back, took one moment to strategize…and acted. One of her swords plunged into the chest of an enemy and she kicked him off in an instant, spinning her sword and slamming it back into the gut of another that had tried to sneak up on her.

Without missing a step, she ripped her sword clear with a fresh crack of bone and slash of innards. There were two men coming at her again, her eyes sought Eireach, but he was caught up…and the simple fact that she'd looked for him mortified her. She used that chagrin, falling to her knees before they attacked, whipping her swords around as theirs clashed above her head. Her swords shifted in her hands, a quick ninety degree angle, and sliced the back of their knees.

They crashed to the dirt and their cries echoed in her ears as she moved on, annoyed for them that Damien didn't outfit them with the proper armor that would have kept them from losing their legs. That was when she saw her, Kindraa, standing at the top of the training arena. Her hands were raised high over her head, fire all but consuming her, a demonic beacon of light against the blue sky. She was a terrifying sight…and Sorsha was drawn towards her even as she let her swords cut down another enemy. Sorsha felt that tiny part of her…that slice of herself that wasn't her own…struggle against the bindings Morrigan had strapped it down with.

"There she is!"

"Oh come on…" Sorsha sighed at Kindraa's words. Did they always have to be after her? In a sick way, she was glad her father had kept her out of sight. If this was going to become a trend, it would get really annoying. As expected, she was flooded by a mass of flashing steel. She heard Eireach's agitated cry as he tried to hack through the throng of men trying to get at her, but Sorsha wondered if he need worry.

It just didn't seem like these men were actually trying to kill her. What an absurd thought, but…it shouldn't have been this easy, she thought as she knocked her way through the soldiers attacking her. She wanted to get to Kindraa, there was a very primal need for her to get to the woman, to extinguish that raging fire around her.

That was when she saw the crystal floating by the demon's head and the demon turned, spoke to it. So there was a spy, Sorsha realized with a renewed wave of rage. Someone was parading around them pretending to be loyal, pretending to be one of them.

She'd weed them out if it was the last thing she did.

When she felt the blinding flash of pain rip across her arm, she thought she might not even get the chance to do that. The flames around Kindraa speared up into the sky in triumph as Sorsha hacked at the man who'd gotten through her defenses. She cursed her moment of distraction, but was confused once more when the men backed away from her instead of jumping on her like a pack of dogs on a wounded cat.

Eireach was able to push through them to get to her, but the field seemed to have gone still and all eyes were on the fury of Kindraa's flames. Sorsha watched a sword flash through the air to Kindraa's outstretched hand and realized that it was the sword that had grazed over her arm.

"It is done!" Kindraa's voice washed over the soldiers and all of Damien's disappeared. But Kindraa remained, her fire dimmed to flickers of flame at the tips of her extremities. Sorsha lunged across the training field, trying to get to her, but Kindraa merely looked up at a castle window with a quick grin before she disappeared as well.

Sorsha's eyes spun around and caught the curtains of the royal chambers swish shut. Whoever it was, they'd watched the whole battle from those windows…had told Kindraa where they were coming from. Whoever it was had told Kindraa how to beat them. The world faded around her and her only goal in life was getting to those rooms. Eireach's calls fell on deaf ears as she rushed past him without a word, the tattered and blood stained remnants of her dress fluttering around her legs.

**Cyric** was seething by the time that the soldiers disappeared around him. How the hell had the bitch known how they'd attack? How had she known the exit points, attack strategies? Eireach's shouts distracted him enough to see Sorsha running through the soldiers and into the castle. His blood spiked, there was ONE way Kindraa could have known all of that.

One very simple way that was currently running into the castle where his wife was. His legs pushed into action, his muscles warming again as he ran after Sorsha.

Eireach's concerned cries didn't stop him, but he had to let his friend know what he'd fallen for, "It's Sorsha!" he snarled as he darted past his friend.

"What's Sorsh-" Realization dawned on Eireach too late, but he fell into step chasing Cyric. "It's not her, Cryic!" But he was too far away, dashing around a corner, skidding slightly on the stone floor. "Damn it."

"What's he doing?" Eireach turned and saw Jareth coming down a side hall, confusion clouding his face.

"He thinks Sorsha is the spy, damn it…he won't listen to me." Jareth's cheek twitched and Eireach tried to ignore the blood splattered over it.

"Hot headed-" Jareth said, running past Eireach as he said it. "We have to stop him before he does something stupid!"

Cyric sent his magic out, sensing around his castle for the feel of her. He wasn't about to let her touch his wife. Gods, he found her…in his rooms, "Jeaule…" Cyric wasn't sure he'd ever moved so fast in his life. His magic swirled around him as he teleported to his rooms.

She'd blown the doors straight off their hinges. They were in splinters, large and small, littered around the floor like wooden confetti. Apparently she'd been in a hurry to get in. He crept from room to room in his suite, his sword gripped, tight and ready, in his hand. If Sorsha hurt his wife…she'd be lucky if he didn't incinerate her.

But room for room, he didn't find Sorsha…or his wife.

And then suddenly, she whipped around the corner, her hair spilling madly from the loose ponytail at her neck, "Did you see her!?" Sorsha's voice was just as crazed as he was sure his was and her swords were gripped like lifelines in her hands. His mind didn't register that she didn't hold them up to attack, he merely reacted.

His power lashed out, whipping her across the room, her swords skidding across the stone with a metallic clash. Her body slammed against the far wall with a bone rattling thud. Surprise and fury flashed in her eyes that did little to hide the pain she was in.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Her voice was strained against the pressure of his power. "You're hurting me…can't breathe…need to find-"

"Where's Jeaule?" He saw the flotsam of the party the girls had had before the battle broke out. She'd been here. "Where is she!?"

Sorsha's brow knotted, "I don't kn-"

"YES YOU DO!" Jareth and Eireach ran into the room behind him, distracting his power enough for Sorsha to push him away from her chest.

"Cyric stop it!" Cyric ignored Jareth.

"You did something with her…probably with Sarah too." Shocked outrage fired in her eyes.

"I told Jeaule to stay with Sarah to protect her!" Insult lined her words. "I would NEVER let anything happen to either of them," she answered quietly…coldly.

"Cyric," Jareth said, grabbing onto his arm. "I just came from my suite, the women are there." Jareth was upset with him, he could hear it. "Jeaule said the same thing Sorsha just did. Sorsha wanted her to stay behind in case the enemy got through." Guilt started to creep in, but he didn't let her go yet.

"But she ran in…how did Kindraa know everything?" Sorsha realized what he was accusing her of and her eyes narrowed, insult not even covering what he'd just done to her.

"You think I'm the spy." When he didn't say otherwise, she spat at his feet. "You can go to every one of the hells…I'm not my father. I saw Kindraa look up at that window," she said nodding towards the bathroom window. "And then the windows slipped shut." Jeaule and Sarah ran into the room and yet his powers still held Sorsha fast to the wall.

"Cyric what do you think you're doing!?" He saw his wife's lips move, but he didn't hear her words.

Cyric felt a hand grab his shoulder, none too kindly, "No king acts like this." Eireach's voice was cold and admonishing. "You had no proof and no solid reason to even assume it was her." His fingers dug sharply into Cyric's shoulder. "Let her down now." Dull astonishment seeped into his blood…what had he done?

**Eireach** crossed the room, shoving off of Cyric's shoulder to get to Sorsha who was panting on the ground. She was shocked enough by Cyric's irrational actions that she shoved off his attempt at help, slapping halfheartedly at his offered hand. He knew her anger wasn't for him and wondered just how much damage Cyric had done here.

So he offered his hand again, and she took it grudgingly, wincing as her back straightened, "You okay?" She sent him one withering look before her eyes turned and burned holes in Cyric.

"If I haven't proven myself to you by now," she said, grimacing again as Eireach braced a hand at her back. "If I haven't proven myself better than my father…then I don't know what in the hells I'm doing here." Eireach saw the guilt finally sink in, like the first flicker of flame licking into the darkness. Cyric's shoulders slumped as Jeaule wrapped her arms around him.

And still…Eireach didn't seem able to find the sympathy for him, not yet.

"She fought right beside me the whole time! When would she have been able to tell Kindraa what was going on when she was risking her life to protect you and yours?" Everyone in the room agreed with him, their reproving stares proved that.

"You could have talked to everyone first instead of running up here looking for blood." Jareth's voice was still level, but under the calm Eireach could sense the taught string of his restraint.

"Why in the name of the gods did you think SORSHA was the spy?" Jeaule seemed dumbfounded at the very thought. "She's protected us all, she's-"

"I'm a Kael." Sorsha said simply.

"Oh really…just beca-"

"It's exactly that. I'm not to be trusted because of what he did." She sighed deeply and it cut at his heart. If Cyric didn't apologize, he was going to rip the apology from his throat himself.

But Cyric saved him the trouble by breaking, falling to his knees, "I don't think that."

Sorsha huffed, sounding like a bull about to charge, "Funny way of showing it."

"Really…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this. I-" Words failed him and he simply slumped into himself. "I'm sorry. It was a snap assumption that I made while mad after a battle that made absolutely no sense." Sorsha's lips pursed, but she nodded shortly. "I can never apologize enough. I know this isn't enough, but I swear to you, Sorsha…I'll make it up to you." Again, he was answered with a simple nod.

"He'll do more than make it up to you," Jeaule said darkly, her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"Don't make a big deal out of this." Sorsha's answer was shocking.

"Why is that?" Eireach asked slowly.

"Because now we know that I'm not the spy…but there is one and they were in your rooms during the battle." She sighed. "There's no reason to drag this out when we have a REAL problem on our hands." Her words sealed off the subject, but he was shocked to see that her hand was still in his from when he helped her up.

**That** was far too close, she thought as she shuffled along down the hallways. If she had any kind of luck at all, they'd drop all their suspicions on that stupid general. Why did Kindraa have to look up at her like that? It was like that bitch wanted her to get caught.

Her eyes flew wide. She couldn't possibly….

That bitch. After all she'd done for her? After all that, Kindraa was going to turn on her? Was she THAT impatient to get this damned piece of her soul back? Isn't this what had gotten Kindraa in trouble with the general's mother? Hadn't Kindraa's greed turned Irelen away from her?

Well, Kindraa was about to get a blast from the past, because she wasn't about to get turned in when she'd been promised so much more. She wasn't about to be killed for treason just to release Kindraa's soul back to her.

Maids smiled at her as she walked down the halls. She smiled back, knowing that, despite the fury raging through her head, she couldn't have anyone starting to suspect things of her. She couldn't have that because she had a great many things to start thinking about.

**Damien** hadn't wanted to sit there as Kindraa did her woo woo stuff with the bitch general's blood, but she didn't give him a choice. He could think of plenty of other things to occupy his time with, there was a wonderful new shipment of gems that he could be going through. It killed him to think that because of her, he wasn't going to get first pick of the new shipment.

There was a good chance that some stupid noblewoman would end up with a stunning diamond that belonged in a broach for him. Thoughts of other's hands sifting through the sappires, rubies and emeralds before his did made him near to physically ill, but no…he wasn't able to go anywhere.

He had to stay right here in this chair because Kindraa told him to. She had muttered something about needing a biological link to this plane while she worked. Something like that anyways…he hadn't really been paying attention. All he knew was that she was FINALLY in a very good mood, better than he'd ever seen her. And that put him in a good mood because he didn't have to listen to her bitching about her splintered soul, his eating habits or how horrible Morrigan had been to her.

"So what is it that you're doing?" he asked, though he really didn't care. He just wanted to appear interested to keep her in this mood that she was in. If she slipped back into her mood, he might go loony.

"I'm just using a bit of blood magic," she whispered reverently, still clutching the blood stained sword close to her heart. His lip curled, but he kept himself at least LOOKING interested. "Just sit back, I don't need you for anything but a link back to this realm. I can't do this work without a biological link."

"Just don't use any of your magic on me."

Her brow quirked irritably, "I assure you, you matter little in the workings I'm doing here." He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, already supremely bored with her so called 'workings'.

Kindraa set out a mortar and pestle, lit the candles she'd spread around the room with a wave of her hand and laid the sword on the table before her. He could see it, the power working its way to the surface of the illusion of her. The demon beneath it shimmered just under the thin veil of peachy flesh and sent a chill up his spine.

One overlong finger swept down the blade, gathering up the half dried blood. For one sickening moment, he thought she was going to lick the dried blood from her finger with the enthusiasm of a child with a lollypop. But thankfully, she merely scrapped the glob into the mortar, mixing it with a few powders and a thick potion from her supplies.

It smoked, a sickening smoke rising from the mixture to assault his nose. It even drifted down his throat, leaving a metallic taste in the back of his throat that he didn't think would ever leave. The smoke rose around her as her eyes went black, full black…like one of those Aboveground sharks. It scared him to look at her, so he turned his eyes to the lightly bubbling mortar.

"At this time and at this hour, release the binds that hold my power." Kindraa was releasing the bonds that Morrigan had placed on the piece of her soul that resided within Kael…or at least she was trying to loosen them. "I call upon the darkest night, to help me fight and end my plight. Within the girl resides my soul, release it to burn black as coal. This child of hatred whose path is unclear, show me now what I should fear."

It wasn't at all what he'd expected, but it was there none the less. What he thought would be a collage of images in Kindraa's mind was a projected movie that moved about his room like phantoms. There was old General Kael, large and ferocious in the memory of his child, but Kindraa waved that memory away, caring little for the past.

"Show me her future path that's still clouded, clear it for me, show me what's shrouded." There was only one image that burned through now, but it curved Kindraa's lips into a devious grin.

A man stood by the table next to them. He was tall with long, toned limbs that suggested a strength that was equal to the kindness that sparkled in his jade green eyes. But Damien didn't need to look at his coppery curls to know who this man was. The man before them was the spitting image of the man Damien's father had pried from the throne. He definitely looked younger than Damien had ever known the fallen king, but he looked like the man.

It stirred something deep within him, a worry that was so different than the hatred that simmered within him for Cyric. He knew that this man would be in this castle, a crown on his head and his unworthy ass on the throne if it hadn't been for his father. And as he looked across the table, through the thinning smoke, at Kindraa…Damien knew that this man had a chance to have it back should things go wrong with Kindraa.

So he wouldn't let it.

"This is Lord Tur." Kindraa sent him a bland glance before her eyes glued back to the transparent image of Eireach.

"I know who he is and I can use him."

"How?" The pleased fire in her eyes confused him.

"She loves him."

Damien sighed, "I figured as much, but how are you going to use him." She wafted the smoke to her face, breathing in the putrid tendrils deeply.

"She doesn't know she loves him or won't admit it." Her eyes were still black as night and twice as frightening. "I haven't been able to loose my spirit, Morrigan did her job well, but the girl won't know that. If I can manipulate her feelings for him…it should make for quite a bit of fun." Her eyes danced in the candlelight. "At least it will give me some entertainment while I think of another way to free myself from that bitch."

**(A/N: Another chapter down, some more interesting things going on in this one. Hope it made some peoples happy. I know that there are readers who made me happy and they were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101 and roguegambit**

**Where have all my reviewers gone? I miss you guys!!!!! But thanks WHOLE BUNCHES to those who have reviewed. You make my weeks with those simple reviews! MUCH love to my little sis, darklady26 for helping me through this week. Couldn't have done it without you!)**


	15. Dumbstruck

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Sarah** was knee deep in color schemes when the knock sounded on her door. She laid down the soft, shimmering peach tinted runner with a smile. Poor Jeaule was hopeless when it came to colors, but gods could that girl organize. So they'd separated the duties for the ball, Sarah planning the look and feel while Jeaule dealt with the details. Jeaule had worked to finalize the menu with the kitchens, made sure that the servants knew what they needed to attend to and that the invitations went out in a timely fashion.

Sarah was glad for it too, because she hated that part of planning a large function, but she LOVED the dance of colors, fabrics and textures. She could decorate ballrooms and dining halls all day long, but drop seating arrangements or a menu layout in front of her and her brain went into meltdown.

The knock on the door sounded again when Sarah's hand reached for the door, "Well hello there." Sarah beamed a smile when she saw that it was Maesia on the other side of it. Lips painted a cheery winter peach curled pleasantly under the brilliant emerald green eyes. Sarah had grown so attached to the cream tinted face framed with that wild mass of red waves.

"I do hope I haven't interrupted anything," Maesia said, casting an impressed glance to the piles of fabrics swatches and color chips. Sarah's heart fluttered as it nearly always did around this woman, it was such an experience to finally have a woman…a mother…who treated her like an actual daughter. But Sarah was finally getting used to Maesia's attentions and silent mannerisms.

"Not at all," she answered with a mile wide grin. "It's always nice to have another discerning eye to help." Sarah laced her arm with Maesia's and led her to the last swatches she'd been going through, musing silently to herself that the shimmering runner was the same color as Maesia's painted lips.

"This is delightful." Maesia picked up that same runner, with a coy smile that quirked those lips. "I do say with some soft off whites and opalescent creams…this would look lovely." Sarah nodded, delving into her piles of swatches.

"That's just what I was thinking."

"OH!" Maesia exclaimed, running her fingers over the pale cream colored brocade with its elegant eggshell detailing. "It's perfect, just think of the china you could put against this, it's a brilliant background." Her lips pursed in an approving smile. "Well I can see that I'm not needed here," she laughed cheerily.

"You're always needed, don't be silly."

"Oh I know, I'm just being self-indulgent." Maesia ran a hand over Sarah's growing bump. "I've only been in the Easternlands a week now, but I can see that I am needed, it's very different for me."

"Jareth has always needed you."

Her mother smiled, "That boy never needed anyone." She gave a quick smile before patting Sarah on the shoulder. "Until you that is."

"But he loves you."

"Oh my dear, I know that," Maesia said with an absent wave. "He's always loved me, I don't doubt that, but Jareth never really NEEDED me. It's nice to realize that you do."

Moved, Sarah took Maesia's hand, "Of course I will, I've never raised one of these things." She gave her belly an amiable pat.

"Yes, well, we'll all be very protective of you until my grand-baby is born." Sarah rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Everyone is being so careful with me already, please promise you won't too," she said with a grin and a sigh. Maesia didn't look as amused, she actually looked shocked and put off.

"But why wouldn't you be as careful as possible?" Sarah's heart pounded, Maesia sounded upset. What had she said?

"Really," she laughed, trying to play it off. "People have been having children for ages." Understanding flooded Maesia's eyes and a fresh dose of irritation, a special look Sarah had known the woman long enough to know was meant exclusively for Jareth.

"That boy will be the death of me, I know it."

"What did he do this time?"

"I can't believe he wouldn't tell you something like this, he's such an unbelievable pest."

"Mind telling me then?" She sat down at her desk at Maesia's insistence as the woman paced before her, obviously irritated at being left to the task of telling Sarah whatever it was she was going to tell her.

"You see dear," Maesia paused, trying to find her words. "You're the first to do this."

Sarah's laughter was quick and rich, "I really don't think so…."

"But you are." The strength and insistence in her voice sobered Sarah instantly. "You're the first mortal turned Fae to bear the child of a full Fae." It felt like the breath had been punched from her lungs.

"Surely others-"

"No." The finality of it silenced Sarah. "Mortals turned Fae are not desirable to full Fae, they only mate with others of their kind." Maesia sighed. "You're the first, so we don't know how your body will react to the forceful magic. It drains QUITE a bit of your magic to bear a Fae child."

Sarah was struck, but she tried to put a smile on, "Well, I'm hardy." Maesia smiled encouragingly.

"I have no doubt of that, my dear, but," Sarah hated hearing that word. "Since you are the first, you'll just have to get used to everyone being rather careful with you."

"Well, it's easier to do so now that I'm in the loop as to WHY."

"Don't worry yourself overmuch about it my dear." Maesia laid her hand on the belly bump again. "I highly doubt that any child born of you and Jareth would deign to forego parading itself into this world."

The laughter rippled through her, "I'm sure that's quite accurate. Why don't we parade the baby around now and look for Jeaule so we can finish up the plans." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, "I can't wait to announce the ball and see Sorsha's face." Maesia took Sarah's arm companionably.

"You two are wicked to her."

"No we aren't," Sarah scoffed with a grin. "We're playful."

"Yes, but does she understand that?" Maesia remembered seeing the haunted little child once in a hallway before her father had dragged her back into their rooms. It was a sight that had haunted her for months after. The poor thing looked near malnourished, sallow and a shadow to her eyes that had made her want to reach out to the girl. "She wasn't raised around others the way you and Jeaule were. For all intents and purposes, she was alone." Sarah nodded as they neared Jeaule's rooms, understanding exactly where Maesia was coming from.

"I know, she was a bit shy at first, but I really think that Jeaule and I are growing on her at long last." Jeaule must have sensed them coming for she opened the door as they reached it. "You are crazy good at that," Sarah praised.

"Years of helping the maids gave me a heightened sense of when people are arriving." Her pleasant, quiet smile spread. "It's handy for serving dinners."

"We're here to finish up all the grueling plans for the ball," Sarah said, plunking herself down in one of Jeaule's plush, forest green armchairs. "I hope you two don't mind if I nod off while you, no offense, drone on about the seating arrangements."

"Of course not, you'd probably seat Lord Willum next to Lord Ballor anyways." Jeaule chuckled at the apparent joke and Maesia joined in, both leaving Sarah with a furrowed brow and an intense knowledge that she needed to learn the names of everyone she'd need to entertain in the future.

"Well have fun seating them then…I'll make sure to stay out of the way." To hammer her point in, she folded her hands over the slight bump she was so very proud of and leaned back, closing her eyes. "Wake me when you're done." From behind closed eyes, Sarah heard their laughter and smiled.

**Sorsha's** mind hadn't settled in the week since Kindraa's surprise appearance at the battle. Why had she taken the time to actually come to something that certainly shouldn't have meant a thing to her. But what had really disturbed Sorsha to the core was how the demon had taken the sword covered with her blood. What the hells did she want with a bloodied sword?

When too many questions remained unanswered in her mind, she'd turned to calling for Morrigan. Surely the goddess could answer these questions for her? She was pacing impatiently before her opened balcony window, frowning out at the space beyond. The balcony wasn't somewhere she liked to go. There was something so open about it, something that kept her from wanting to expose herself on its airy spaces. Sorsha guessed that it didn't help that her father had never allowed her out on their balcony, not wanting her influenced by anyone but himself…even if it was just seeing them.

As if to spite her thoughts, Morrigan appeared out on the balcony in her usual dazzle of silver. Sorsha froze by the door, she didn't want to go out there. Morrigan would come in, wouldn't she?

"My dear, what's wrong?" Morrigan stepped towards her, but not into the room as Sorsha would have liked. Her throat closed up as she realized that she was falling to her father's training yet again. He'd been the one to drill this fear into her, this fright of the open, welcoming space of the balcony. "Sorsha…?" Morrigan closed the space, keeping Sorsha from making a decision on breaking drilled in training.

"I'm okay, I'm okay…"

"Your father again I assume?" How was the goddess so able to read her? She laughed at herself…perhaps because Morrigan was a goddess?

"Yes," she answered truthfully with a pathetic little chuckle. "I'll get over it eventually." Her eyes drifted to the open air beyond the doors and started when the doors shut behind Morrigan.

"No need to taunt yourself with it until you're ready."

Sorsha felt the tension melt from her muscles, "You're right, of course."

Morrigan gave a confident nod, "Of course." She wrapped a surprisingly strong arm around Sorsha's shoulders and led her back into the room. "So what can I do for you?"

Sorsha told her about what happened during the battle…a bit surprised when the goddess seemed shocked by what she told her, "Didn't you watch the battle?" Morrigan's face looked stunned and enraged.

"I didn't even know that there was a battle." That simple phrase had Sorsha's insides cringing and twisting sickeningly.

"How did she block it from you?"

"I don't know," the goddess answered darkly. "But I will make it a point to find out." Her eyes cleared and she pulled Sorsha nearer to her by the shoulders. "Tell me exactly what she did with the sword."

Sorsha's brow knotted, "She didn't do anything. She just called it, called an end to the battle, looked up at the window and then disappeared." Morrigan hissed out a breath as she paced before the hearth.

"Please, my dear, promise me that you will watch yourself and your heart closely from now on." The severity in her voice had Sorsha's shoulders stiffening.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Morrigan's eyes were dark again, furious and yet worried for her. It was the worry that set her hair on end.

"She's got your blood now, Sorsha." There was a chilling finality in Morrigan's voice and Sorsha felt stupid that she hadn't thought of it before.

"Oh gods…" Morrigan put an arm around her as the realization set in. "If she has my blood…she has a link to the piece of her within me. Oh Morrigan, she could break it free…she could find a measure of control over my actions." She felt sick, every muscle in her body felt heavy and strained. "What am I going to do?" Morrigan urged her head between her legs.

"Breathe, you're going to breathe."

"I'm better now," she said once her head didn't feel like it was going to implode anymore.

"My heart, you need to be sure of YOUR heart in all things now." A measure of that sickness settled back into her as she thought of the implications of what Morrigan was telling her.

Eireach. It irritated her that her mind flashed to him. She didn't love him, he made her uneasy and annoyed her on a regular basis. Love couldn't possibly be anything like that.

Because she didn't even want to think about the irritating knots in her belly, she changed the subject, "You should know that there is indeed a spy here in the castle." Morrigan raised a brow, both in surprise at the news and amusement at the change in subject.

"Yes, I figured as much when you told me Kindraa looked up in to window. Why did you feel it important to specify the fact?" Sorsha felt bad about doing so, but she told Morrigan about what Cyric had done. "How dare he!? I'm going to give him a-"

"No!" Sorsha shouted out and grabbed Morrigan's arm. "You really don't have to, I really shouldn't have even brought it up."

"How can you just shrug off the fact that he did that to you?" Sorsha sighed, she'd asked herself the same thing.

"Because you didn't see his face when he realized what an ass he'd been." That didn't seem to convince Morrigan of anything so Sorsha let her shields drop more. "He's been a saint to me over this last week and we have a tentative friendship building again. Just leave it, please." While she didn't look pleased with it, Sorsha knew that Morrigan wouldn't flay Cyric any longer.

"You better be giving him grief for it," her patron goddess muttered in a pout.

"Trust me, I gave him a very hard time and he weathered it," she assured. It was true enough. For days after, she'd been icy and distant to him and he'd never once slanted an eye at her for it. He'd looked penitent and ashamed of himself. Sorsha had planned to forgive the man, it seemed she didn't hold grudges like her father did. It would hardly be fair to loathe the man for a miscalculation anyone could have made.

Though she wasn't going to deny that it stung, for it had, did and most likely would for a good time to come. But the point was, she hadn't expected much better when she'd decided to come out of her father's forced confinement. She wasn't going to let him slip back into the comfortable friendship they'd shared either though. No, she was going to make him feel bad for a while yet.

Morrigan shifted, the unrest clear on her face, she still wanted to punish Cyric for the insult, "I swear to you, he does something like that again, your good faith won't hold me back." Sorsha chuckled as a secret part of her warmed at the motherly affection the goddess had always bestowed upon her.

"If he ever does something like that again, I doubt that there will be anything left of him for you to punish once I'm done with him." She slid an affectionate arm around the shoulders of the woman she'd always envisioned as her mother, though that couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Someone is coming, my heart." Morrigan frowned, they were both saddened that their time together had been cut short. "Call on me anytime, I love seeing you." Sorsha bit back the warmth that spread through her, misting her eyes, as Morrigan ran an loving hand down her face. She disappeared as the knock rapped at Sorsha's door.

"Come in!" she called out, cursing her friendliness when Kessy walked in the door.

"Lady…" she all but whispered as she curtsied. Sorsha had given up trying to tell the girl that the titles, bowing and curtseys weren't necessary and quite unwanted. The girl would do it anyways, so she merely did her best to ignore it.

"What can I do for you?" She realized the error of her words before those big, blue doe eyes turned to her in surprise.

"Oh no Lady, I was sent here to fetch you!" There was a quiet terror in her voice that made Sorsha want to smack some spine into the girl.

"Calm yourself." Sorsha caught herself, her tone had been quite harsh and she knew this fragile thing couldn't handle it. Taking a deep breath and swallowing words better left unsaid, she turned back to Kessy. "So what are you fetching me for?"

"There's an announcement to be made in the main dining hall and everyone is to attend."

"And they actually sent someone to pick me up?" She snorted, disbelieving that they would do that.

"There was speculation that without an escort, you might to attend." Sorsha rolled her eyes and stepped from the room.

"Oh good gods, by all means, escort my antisocial self to this damned announcement." Kessy followed behind her, quiet as the mouse Sorsha pictured her as. When she got to the main dining hall, it was already packed with the castle's residents so she pushed herself to the front of the crowd, grateful to lose Kessy in its mass. She saw Sarah, Jeaule and Maesia…a welcome new addition…on a temporary stage, looking gorgeous, feminine and regal as always. She was lucky to have such women in her life now.

She didn't see Eireach, but spotted Cyric in an instant. She decided to sidle over his way, it would be better to be near him if Kessy scented her out of the crowd. When he looked down at her, regret filled his eyes for a brief satisfying moment before he smiled and pulled her closer, saving her from being smothered by the crowd.

"They're vicious in here today."

"What is this all about?" she asked, glancing up at the three women again.

"They've been planning something quite fun." She didn't like the gleam in his eyes. There was a sinking feeling in her gut that she wouldn't find their plans as fun as others might. "Listen up," he said when Jeaule stepped forward.

"But where's Eireach?" Sorsha asked, scanning the room. She'd been forced to come…he should have too.

"He knows about it, he had errands to run for me."

She muttered darkly to herself as Jeaule called for quiet. Sorsha nearly groaned allowed when Jeaule announced that they were throwing the Goblin Kingdom's annual Christmas time ball in the Easternlands this year. If she had, at least she would have been drowned out by the cheers of hundreds of excited denizens.

"Cyric…I don't want to go," she pleaded when the crowds started to disperse.

"You have to go. You also have to clean the dirt off and wear makeup and a dress." He pursed his lips, looking her over. "I think makeup would suit you too." She held up a mockingly warning finger.

"You push too far sir." He laughed cheerily and she was happy that they'd worked themselves back to this level of comfort with one another. "Seriously though…I don't want to get all dressed up." She heard the discomfort and unease in her voice and apparently, so did Sarah.

"Don't WANT to or too scared to?" Sorsha sighed, Sarah always knew the perfect button to push.

"Honesty or ego…?"

"Honesty."

"Then honestly, a bit of both."

Maesia, a woman she'd met a mere week ago, walked up to her and laced an arm around her in much the same manner as Morrigan always did, "What if we told you that we'd style you and make you look as perfect as you are." Her face heated.

"Then I would say you'd be fighting a losing battle." She found Maesia's laughter soothing, but she only supposed that all mother's had that way about them.

"I'd say that there is plenty of beauty hidden under that layer of dirt you have."

Sorsha smirked and threw up her chin, "I like my layer of dirt."

"Let us sand it off for one night," Jeaule begged. "Please?" Sorsha groaned, but she knew she was fighting her OWN losing battle by denying these women the pleasure of playing dress up with her.

"Fine, but please…PLEASE find me something that better suits ME than a poofy or skimpy dress."

Sarah pursed her lips thoughtfully, "That will be quite the task, but I think I'm up to it." Beside her, Jeaule clapped her hands happily.

"You won't regret it! Sarah makes beautiful dresses." Sorsha saw the dreamy look in the queen's eyes and knew that Sarah must have made a dress to remember for Jeaule.

"I trust you guys." The smiles that crossed their faces was of pure bliss. Sorsha realized that they'd all stepped closer to being true friends with that simple statement of hers. Deciding it couldn't hurt, she pulled them both into a hug. "Don't cry on me or anything."

**Eireach** was on the training field, the errands he had run for Cyric had left him irritated and in a habit started by Sorsha, he now took his frustrations out with a sword and a helpless wooden pole. He was so immersed in the fantasy world where the pole was the fat bastard that pretended to run Tent City that he never noticed Sorsha arrive.

"Wow, that pole really pissed you off didn't it?" He turned to her, eyes still slightly glazed. Her stance was as lax as usual, with her sword perched carelessly flat side down on her shoulder.

"It did, insulted you again." He hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to take it back. Sorsha's eyes narrowed in question.

"He did now, did he?" Eireach thrust the tip of his long sword into the ground and leaned on the hilt.

"He did," he answered on a sigh.

"Whatever did he say to make you so angry?" She circled him, her voice light and teasing.

"He was much more explicit without you around." Her brow quirked, urging him to continue. "Apparently, you're unfit to be the general of any army because of the simple fact that you're a woman and the daughter of a traitor." His skin crawled again as he remembered it.

"Well now, he's quite opinionated for a lump of wood." She pulled a smile from him, damn it.

"Indeed he is."

"Then he's obviously not worth listening to."

"If only it were that simple." He raked a sweaty, dirt covered hand through his hair.

"Why can't it be?" He had forgotten who he was talking to. She was ace at letting things like that roll off her shoulders. Eireach watched her approach the wooden pole, staring it up and down intently. "He doesn't seem important." Sorsha turned to him, a questioning gleam in her eyes. "Is he?"

Eireach snorted indignantly, "Not worth the sweat on a horse's ass." Her smile was rare, but she shared one with him now that eased his anger. She seemed surprised at the severity of his tone.

"So…he can be taught," she teased.

"Taught what?" he asked with a grin playing at the corners of his lips. He loved it when she lowered her shields enough to play around with him.

"Taught to be an ass."

"I didn't need to be taught that, I'm quite good at it when I'm pissed off."

Her lips pursed in amusement, "It's a lot easier to be around you when you're like this." The snicker slipped through his lips.

"So you want me to be pissed all the time?" She thought about it a moment and shrugged.

"Until I figure out how to be comfortable around you…why not?" Eireach reached out to her, pushing back a few freed rogue hairs.

"So, if I promise to be good and irritated, would you go to the ball with me?" It amused him when her cheeks colored lightly and the surprise registered in her eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't think I'd ask you." There was something else in her eyes, something that told him to be careful with her. It wasn't anger or the knee-jerk Sorsha callousness he saw building in them, but something more akin to worry. While the look intrigued him to the point of wanting to know why, he didn't push it.

"I'm sure there are plenty of other girls that would adorn your arm far better than I would." Yes, he thought, there was definitely a bit of uncertainty and fear building there. Why though…that question burned in him stronger than ever.

"I don't want anyone else to bother me during the ball." He tugged at her shirt ties. "You're all the annoyance I need." He could see her fighting the smile, the right corner of her lips lifting slightly before she forced it back down. The right side of her smile always lifted before the rest.

"I suppose I could bug you for the night," she conceded. "At least you know with the frightening Kael at your side, no fat, pompous ass would dare approach you." This time she did smile, that two part grin that tugged at him.

"There is that." He couldn't believe she'd agreed to it. Now he would have to take the time up to the ball to get her softened up a bit more. His stomach turned pleasantly when he thought he might actually have the chance to kiss her. "So what are you wearing?" Wrong question, he thought quickly when he saw her shoulders stiffen.

"I don't know…Sarah is making me something." Eireach moved closer to her, abandoning his sword in the ground to lean on the wooden pole next to her.

"I'm sure she'll make you a beautiful gown." Sorsha's lip curled at the thought.

"I don't want a GOWN." Of course she wouldn't…it wouldn't be right, he remembered his daydream. No, it wouldn't be right at all.

"She'll know that." Her laughter was unexpected.

"Oh believe me, she knows. I made that much clear."

"Why don't I doubt that?" he teased, reaching out to her again. He really shouldn't have tried touching so much, but he couldn't help it. It was harder than he'd prepared himself for to love a woman completely and not be able to touch her. She was right there, right in front of him, but he wasn't sure of her feelings. The fact that she was a tempestuous creature didn't help.

If he pushed too hard, too fast, he could ruin everything. But at the same time, he didn't know if she knew how to pick up on his subtle hints. She'd grown up secluded with her father, he doubted she'd had many hot dates in that time, let alone a boyfriend. So, would she know that he liked her because he looked at her more than any other? Would she realize that he touched, or attempted to touch, her more than any other? It was like being a young boy again, awkward and unsure.

He decided to play a card and see what it got him. He only hoped it wasn't a punch in the face.

"You sure are pretty, you know that?" When her body went stock still, he was scared a fist would be on a war path for his face.

"Why did you say that?"

Because it was such an odd response, he mulled it over a minute and shrugged, "I suppose because I think you're pretty." Her eyes finally turned to them and what he saw there made him regret saying anything yet. He saw that fear, that bone deep uncertainty, all but spinning tangibly in her eyes. Her eyes narrowed, searching is face

"This is so aggravating!" she shouted as she turned to storm back to the castle. There was a moment for him that he simply stood there, dumbfounded. What the hells had brought that on?

"Wait just a minute!" he called out, chasing her across the dirt field. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "What the hells is your problem? All I said was I think you're pretty and you storm off? That wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting." Her eyes went dark, falling into the color of rich soil.

"What WERE you expecting," she asked on a hiss, wrenching her arm from his hand. "Were you expecting me to fall into your arms and declare my love for you, nobleman? Were you expecting me to be my mother?"

"Oh gods," he sighed, gripping a handful of his hair in frustration. "That wasn't at all what I was saying and you know it Sorsha." He saw something flicker in her eyes, he knew she didn't believe what she was saying. So why in the hells was she saying it? "What's really the matter here?" His voice was calm and level and it took her off balance.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Her chin lifted, weakly defiant.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He reached out, gripping that chin in his hand.

"I'm not trying to battle you and I'm not trying to make you into your mother." He caught her eyes with his forceful jade green gaze and held them, not letting her speak. "I want you to be nothing but yourself, so get used to that. Stop thinking me the villain your father painted all noblemen to be and we'll get along much nicer." He lowered his lips planning to prove his words.

There was no struggle as he's expected, no muttered rebuff. The silent stillness of her lips against his was at once drugging and disappointing. He'd expected fists beating against his chest…or his head. He'd expected the sting of a slap and the sound of her stomping footsteps down the stone hallways, but there she stood, her lips to his, her breath…his breath.

The flavor of her was intoxicating, like the taste of a long forgotten and forbidden forest. There was a sweet, rich muskiness to her that spoke of dark nights in mist blanketed glades. The utter shock at the depths of her had him drawing her closer, deepening a kiss he'd not planned to.

That was when the real shock set in. Instead of pulling away from him, he felt that moment of surrender again. For a moment, he was in the hallway with her crying on his shoulder again. Her body surrendered and leaned into his, her lips, soft and pliant beneath his, begged for more than he would push on her now. While her lips might be ready for this, he knew her heart wasn't…and he wasn't about to jeopardize his chance at her heart.

So softly and slowly, he pulled back from her, smiling down into her eyes, "So, I'll have to see Sarah about matching your dress for the ball." Her glazed and dazed eyes narrowed in confusion. He kissed her once more on her forehead and stepped back. "Do see that you don't rip this dress before I see it on you?" When she nodded slowly, still in a haze from the unexpected kiss, he smiled and walked away from her…deciding that kissing Sorsha was far better than chopping at a wooden pole any day.

**(A/N: Hey there guys, sorry this was late. My best friend here in Arizona just had her baby, so…yeah. Been with her a while. And now my best friend in the whole world is in labor with my godchild, but she's in Texas, so I won't be able to be there for that one. :-( So again, sorry bout the delay!!! Those who read and reviewed the last chapter and made me even happier than I am now were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears.**

**Much love to you guys and thanks again!!)**


	16. Surrender

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story. **

**Sarah** walked with Jeaule through the sun dappled hallways towards Sorsha's rooms. The two were sure that the woman had sequestered herself inside the safety of her walls in an attempt to escape the masquerade that night. She was supposed to meet them in Sarah's rooms almost an hour ago and when she hadn't arrived, they had set out to drag her, forcibly if need be, to get ready.

"She's really going to try to get out of this isn't she?" Jeaule asked, disbelief mixing with cheery amusement in her amber eyes.

"She'll try."

Jeaule giggled at Sarah's quick answer, "Yeah, like she'll be able to fight both of us off."

"And if she remains adamant about it, we'll just bring in Maesia," Sarah smirked devilishly.

"Oh," Jeaule sighed dramatically. "We can't be that hard on her. Maesia would harangue the girl till she begged to go to the masque." Sarah laughed along with her friend. It was so true. Maesia had a way of making anyone do her will with the cunning use of smirking guilt trips that no one ever saw coming…even when they knew they were in for one.

"I'll bring her in if it calls for it."

Jeaule's eyes set as the two stopped in front of Sorsha's door and knocked politely, "She doesn't have a chance." It was clear that Sorsha was dragging ass to answer the door, but a few amusing moments later, the door creaked open and they heard Sorsha curse imaginatively.

"Hello to you too," Sarah smirked. It was plain that Sorsha wasn't planning to go anywhere, she was still wearing her scuffed and dirty training leathers. Her hair was still held back rigidly in the oppressive bun it was always coiled into. Sarah really looked forward to letting it loose and finding out how long it was, the texture and weight of it. She couldn't wait to play with it and find a way for it to be down that wouldn't make their friend uncomfortable.

"I really don't think I'm going tonight guys." Sarah could see the startling unease in Sorsha's eyes, but the girl was going to the damn ball if it killed her. They'd just prop the damn corpse up in a chair.

"I really think you are."

Sorsha rolled her eyes and opened the door for them, "I just don't think that I'll…" she paused, waving her hand in vague circles before her, "…fit in." They walked into Sorsha's rooms which reminded Sarah of the Spartan way Jeaule had decorated her room back at the Goblin Kingdom. Though, Jeaule's room had never had swords and other training equipment stacked and hung meticulously on the walls.

Sarah noted, with an interested purse of her lips, that the curtains were drawn on the windows and over the door to the balcony. Was that a fallback to her days of living in the caverns of Underflow? Was this yet another thing that her father held on her? If so, Sarah would have to see what she could do about getting the girl to open the windows again. Sorsha couldn't live in fear of her father's wrath for the rest of her life and neither could she live with the fear of the nobles that she would have to deal with for the rest of her life. So Sarah figured that it was up to her to nudge the curtains open so to speak.

"Who cares?" Sarah asked inquisitively. The question seemed to stump Sorsha, who stood before them with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. "As you might have heard, Jeaule and I didn't exactly fit in when we first jumped into the world of Fae nobility."

Sorsha snorted derisively, "Yeah, but you two are so much more polished than I am," she said throwing her arms in the air in exasperation. With a sad little sigh, she shrugged, "I'm just a soldier." Sarah felt so bad for this poor girl, when would she realize that she was so much more than that? When would she realize that there were so many people that thought so much more than that of her? Even as she watched Jeaule throw an arm around their friend, she knew it would be a hard road to coax the woman Sorsha wanted to balance with the soldier the old Kael had brainwashed her to be.

"I told you that we would buff the grit from you for the night." She tried to keep it light, she could see a weight building in Sorsha's eyes that didn't need added to.

"But that's just it," Sorsha said, voice sad. "It would only be for tonight and it wouldn't be…me." Sarah figured it out then as Sorsha looked down at herself with ill-concealed disappointment.

"Are you worried about what Eireach is going to think?"

"No." But the answer had come too quickly and Sarah knew that Sorsha was lying.

"Please come with us," Jeaule asked in her innocent, sweet way. "I promise you that we aren't going to make you anything you're not. I can't wait for you to see the dress." From the way Sorsha's lip curled slightly, Sarah could tell that she was anything but looking forward to that part of the night.

She smiled as she laced her arm through Sorsha's, "I think you will be pleasantly surprised about that, but you have to come with us to find out." Sorsha bit her lip and sighed, but nodded and let them walk her back through the hallways to Sarah's rooms. It was strange to see such bruised vulnerability in Sorsha's eyes, in the way she bit at her lip nervously or her hand gripped in on itself convulsively. There was something that was finally cracking within Sorsha and Sarah just hoped that the woman would know how to deal with it when the dam within her finally broke.

They finally got back to Sarah's room and she darted in first, leaving Sorsha with Jeaule in the hallway, "I have to hide your dress, I want to surprise you with it." When she slipped through the door, she was met with an incensed sigh from her husband.

"Are the three of you holding your rituals in HERE?"

Sarah chuckled as she lifted the dress, raising a brow when he took it from her, "The dress is in here, so yes." He looked down at the hunter green dress in his hands.

"I could take it elsewhere for you."

"Why thank you," she said with a smile, bring one to his. "You can take it to the closet for me." He rolled his eyes as he did as she asked, but she bit her tongue…at least he was being helpful. "If you don't want to be here, why don't you go dress yourself with Cyric and Eireach." She crossed back to the doors and let in her friends as Jareth smiled and headed for the door.

"Very well, love." He leaned in and kissed her, a hand lingering on the bump her belly had become. "You knew I would leave you to your clucking anyways," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes, but it's more fun to grapple for it." The approving gleam in his eyes quickened her pulse which caused the baby to kick within her.

"I'll see you two later," he said kissing her once more before turning to Jeaule and Sorsha. "And you two as well." He bowed to Jeaule and Sorsha before fleeing the feminine air. Once the door was closed, Sarah turned and smiled at Sorsha.

"I hope you don't mind if Jeaule and I get ready first?"

"Not at all," she answered, slumping down on the couch. Sarah smirked, knowing Sorsha wanted to rebel, but pleased that she wasn't. It showed promise for the soldier who wanted to be a woman.

"We figured if we dressed you first, you'd end up sprawled on the couch like you are now, ruining your hair and wrinkling your dress." She was pleased when Sorsha returned her smirk.

"I'd probably do worse than that."

"Then we'll just bore you by forcing you to watch us prepare then," Sarah said as she pulled out both Jeaule's and her own dress. The ice blue dress was passed to the platinum haired queen while she laid the fire red dress across the velvet duvet. Sarah smiled as she thought of Sorsha's dress hanging in the closet. The three of them would be a unit tonight, a showing of the bond between them that would Sarah knew would set the noble's lips to flapping in interest and even a bit of annoyance.

**Eireach** slipped the soft material of the hunter green jacket over his shoulders, his mind wandering to fantasies of what Sorsha's dress might look like. At least he knew the color, it would be a good one on her. No one had doubted Sarah's ability to choose a complimentary color though, but the design and cut of the dress was something they'd all been awaiting with baited breath.

"Damn nice color on you," Cyric called out from behind him and he felt a teasing tug on one of his curls. He always hated it when people did that, but he enjoyed his hair long, teasing around his eyebrows. So he had to take the bad with the good. "It'll look good on your date too."

"I'm really not sure that anyone should call it a date around Sorsha." He and Cyric had come a long way since he'd man handled Sorsha over a week ago, but Eireach no longer wanted to rip Cyric's tongue from his mouth so he figured that was a big step.

"I would think not, she'd either run or castrate the man who said it."

"Then keep your tongue in your head." Cyric cringed, grimacing at Eireach's words.

"I will, I think I've treaded on thin enough ice with her as it is."

"Aren't things getting better?"

Cyric's brow rose positively, "Oh yes, but I know I have a lot to make up for." Eireach merely nodded, not wanting to drag that subject back up. Sorsha had asked for them all to focus more on the fact that there was a spy in their midst than on Cyric's actions and that was exactly what he was going to do. "Anyways, thanks for not making me prepare for this masque alone. When Jeaule ran off to dress with Sarah and Sorsha, I'd feared the worst." Eireach figured that the king had nothing to fear, the ice blue formal wear was the same color of his eyes.

The door to his rooms opened with out a knock and Eireach didn't have to turn to know that it was Jareth. That man never knocked when entering a room, Eireach assumed that was something ingrained in him from infancy. Jareth had grown up with a tyrant for a father, not a complete ass of a king, but a tyrant to his family for sure. His father had never knocked anywhere he went and while Jareth was a far better man than his father, Eireach had to assume that a few of his mannerisms and habits would have passed on to the son.

"I was banished from my own room," he told them before either could ask why he was there.

Eireach laughed as he straightened his jacket, "I very much doubt that," he teased Jareth, who slinked down into one of his armchairs, one leg over an arm like always. "I'm sure you ran for your life." Jareth's smile was wide and pleased.

"Well, who wants to be around when the hens are fussing about one another?"

"I don't think Sorsha is much of a clucking hen," Eireach commented lightly to Jareth and Cyric's amusement.

"No, indeed." Jareth's eyes danced. "I almost wanted to hang around and watch them transform her. It might have been entertaining." Cyric frowned.

"They're only just NOW starting to get ready?"

"No, that was a while ago, I headed to your rooms to get ready and when I found it pleasantly abandoned and silent, I dressed there." He fingered the flame colored jacket he was wearing, the mask of flames held loosely in his left hand. He'd even magicked some daring red streaks into his hair to go along with his wife's little costuming plan. Surely the 6 of them would upset a few people by daring to bring Sorsha and Eireach up to their level, but he agreed with her whole-heartedly.

"So, how is Sorsha supposed to match with me? And the others with the two of you for that matter?" Eireach asked. "You're the only one who has seen the dresses, Jareth."

"I'll tell you only that the women are to be the centerpieces and us merely adornments." Jareth grimaced, but a smile tugged at his lips, "If I told you more, my wife would kill me…and I want to see my child born." Jareth stood and tossed a crystal at each of them, they materialized into small, half masks. "I WAS allowed to give you those."

Eireach studied his mask of winding and twisting vines, "Plants…?" His eyes scanned Cyric's, which looked like jagged ice crystals. "Yours is fire," he said, glancing at Jareth's mask. The light clicked on in Eireach's head and his smile was slow and impressed. "Your wife has plans of a big splash I see."

"When does Sarah do anything halfway? Now see, I can talk to you about it without feeling guilty, for I didn't tell you anything." His mismatched eyes gleamed merrily as he slipped on his mask.

"So they're going as fire, ice and earth," Cyric grinned, delighted by Sarah's ploy. "I have to say, the three of them will look beautiful together, quite the picture."

"I'm still shocked Sorsha agreed to go to the masque with you, Eireach." Jareth teased.

"Well, she was a bit shocked when she agreed to it."

"What does that mean?" Jareth asked with a quirked brow.

The excitement of it bubbled within him again, he hadn't told anyone about the kiss, but he could hold it back no longer. He watched their eyes go wide with shock as he told them of it. Cyric let out a whoop that had Eireach smiling from ear to ear.

"It's about damned time! We all knew that it would, but damn it was a long time coming."

"So you say she simply stood there, dumbfounded, after you kissed her?" Jareth asked quietly, shocked at the thought of it. "I would have loved to see that."

"Trust me, it was so hard not to laugh at the sight of it, but I held up magnificently." He remembered how emotions had circled dazzlingly around his mind and knew that was the only reason he hadn't broken down in tears from laughter.

"I would have thought for sure that she would have slapped you or something."

Eireach laughed at Cyric's disbelief, "Honestly, I was prepared for it."

"Come now men," Jareth said sharply. "No more talk of this, if we drone on about it, we'll be no better than the hens I was lucky enough to escape." He glanced out the window at the dwindling light, "Anyways, it's time to go pick them up, so I hope you're all ready."

Eireach slipped the mask over his face and scooped curls to either side of it. After a quick last look in the mirror the three of them walked the hallways to Jareth's rooms. They were met with other nobles making their way down to the ballroom. It was clear that everyone had gone all out, as they always did for the Christmas ball. Costumes of all colors and textures passed them as they headed to their girls.

Occasionally, a noble would look up from their frivolity to greet them, but neither Jareth nor Cyric were upset when someone didn't. Tonight was all about anonymity, even if the three of them were recognizable even with their masks. The servants were walking the halls, lighting the torches, when the three friends arrived at Jareth's rooms and knocked.

Jeaule came out first, bedecked in her Ice Maiden costume, "Sarah is just giving Sorsha a few finishing touches." Her smile was infectious. "We saved her for last so she didn't ruin the look of it while she waited." She looked beautiful and Cyric wasted no time pulling her in for a kiss.

The ice blue of her dress against the platinum blonde of her hair made her look like the Ice Maiden, come to life. The bodice looked made of silvery blue ice that melted into a skirt that looked to be made of the very snow that was falling from the sky outside. Her hands were covered in what also seemed like snow to where it faded into nothingness at her elbows. The mask in her hand was a full mask on a long staff for her to hold it to her face as she wished. It was a match to Cyric's, though far more lavish, with a tall spire of ice crystals that looked like a sparkling translucent crown.

The door opened again and Sarah, looking like a living flame, slipped out, "I can't wait for you to see her," she said to Eireach with a beaming grin.

Jareth slid into place beside her, his arm snaking around her waist. They both looked like walking flames, Sarah's skirt was layered fading from red at the bodice down to orange then yellow in the shredded style skirt. Every movement she made looked like a flickering fire to his eyes. Like Jeaule's costume, Sarah's hands were also covered in gloves that appeared part of her very skin, like flames dancing up her arms. Her mask was equal to Jeaule's in grandeur, the flames of the mask tiered up into a crown of fire.

"Where is she?" Eireach asked, eager more than before to see what Sorsha looked like.

"She said she just needed a minute to see herself in the mirror."

"And you left her alone?" Jareth asked speculatively. "Are you sure she isn't slipping out of a window as we speak?"

"I'm not." He hadn't even heard the door open, but there Sorsha stood. The dress was in no way inferior to either Sarah's or Jeaule's. The bodice of the dress looked almost like a breastplate made of plants, but it left her arms and shoulders bare and tapered down into a skirt of long, thick leaves and fragrant flowers that was longer in the back than it was in the front. It left the long length of her legs available for the eye and they were displayed with vines twisting around them.

Eireach had to give Sarah credit for creating a dress that combined what Sorsha was with what the nobility would expect. Her gloves were more twisting vines that seemed to morph into her arms at the elbow. Like the other girls, her mask looked to be topped with a crown. Eireach was surprised and yet impressed at Sarah's gall to dress Sorsha in a costume that echoed those of both Queens.

"What…?" He heard Sorsha ask with a tinge of embarrassment in her voice. She was biting her cheek when his eyes met hers.

"You look…" he trailed off with a shrug. Her flush surprised him. "You look beautiful." That was when he noticed, "Turn around!" She jumped when he all but shouted it. Her hair was down, his hands itched to reach out and touch it. Not yet, his mind soothed, not yet. It looked like wheat, he mused. The surprisingly long length of it fell down, nearly bone straight, to her mid back. How could hair become so much more beautiful simply by being down? Breaking from his shock, he offered her his arm…and she promptly rolled her eyes before lacing her arm through. He chuckled, "It's nice to know that you're still there under all that makeup."

He watched her try to fight the smirk, "Me too." His heart danced when she smiled up at him. "At least there's no way I could lose you," she teased, pulling on a coppery curl in a cute move that made him happy he'd grown it back.

"Like I'll let you out of my sight tonight." Her laughter was musical as they headed towards the ballroom, Jareth and Sarah leading the way, with him and Sorsha bringing up the rear. It was the progression of their importance in the Underground, Eireach couldn't fault the Goblin King that. Not to mention that the ball was normally under Goblin Kingdom jurisdiction. If it was a ball thrown BY Cyric and Jeaule…they would lead the way.

"Why wouldn't you let me out of your sight?" It was strange to hear her so unsure of herself, but at the same time, endearing to know that she was nervous because of him.

"Because if I do, some other guy would scoop you up in a minute." She laughed, obviously thinking that a nice joke. "I'm not kidding, Sorsha," he said, laying his hand on the one she had laced through his arm. "You look gorgeous and you ARE gorgeous…any man would be lucky to have you."

"Eireach…"

"But I'm the lucky one," again she blushed at his words.

"Oh stop it," she said as she averted her eyes.

Jareth stopped at the door to the ballroom, resting his hand on it and looking back at Sorsha, "Ready?"

"As ever." He opened the doors to a blast of noise. Music, the scents of the hors' devours circling the room, laughter and the chattering of all the party goers flooded over them as they entered. All eyes turned to them and the inevitable hushed murmurs began as everyone realized that Sorsha was dressed as an equal to Jeaule and Sarah.

He felt Sorsha stiffen beside him and tightened his grip on her hand, "Ignore them, you may not have their titles, but you're better than every one of them in here." When she relaxed at his side, he smiled and followed the royal couples to their seats.

**Jareth** sat in his chair at the table sometime later, watching the festivities. He hadn't allowed himself to relax, to have fun…there was still a spy somewhere and if someone didn't remain alert, something bad could happen. It was lucky that his wife wasn't in a dancing mood at the moment anyways. He could tell that she was watching the room as well.

"I do wish that Cyric and Jeaule were a bit more aware," she commented. He sighed as he watched their dear friends twirling around the dance floor in a cheerful blur of icy blue.

"I know." It was true that the ball was meant for fun and a respite from the harsh reality of war, but there was no reason to think that Damien and Kindraa wouldn't try something with their little spy they had here. Yes, it was very true that it was winter and there was no war allowed, but there was no stopping a swift sabotage. But honestly, he couldn't be too hard on them though. "They're new to this though."

"So am I." He smirked, picking up his wife's hand and kissed it tenderly.

"Yes, but you have me to learn from."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she smiled over at him, "Oh yes, there could be no better." She looked back out at her friends, "They'll be fine, I know…we'll let them have this night and drill them about it tomorrow. For now, we're eyes enough, my love."

It never ceased to amaze him how much he loved his wife, even as her body was changing…there was something so beautiful about it. True, her ankles and feet were starting to swell when she tried moving around too much and she'd gained a good ten or fifteen pounds, but it looked so perfect on her with that maternal glow. He had to figure that she'd never been as beautiful as she was at this moment, but he'd thought that very thing so many times now…he knew it was just an excuse to say it.

Tonight, she'd amused him by choosing NOT to disguise her pregnancy as most Fae women tended to do until it was impossible. But no, his Sarah flaunted it with the cut of her dress, drawing attention to what would normally be seen as a disfiguring time in a Fae woman's life. Unable to resist, he splayed a hand over the bump.

Sarah laid her hand over his and he could see the delight in her eyes, "I can't wait to see the healer tomorrow so we can find out if it's a girl or a boy."

"Well surely it's a boy," Jareth said quickly.

One brow quirked in amusement, "Why do you think so?"

"Girls don't kick so hard."

"You have much experience with pregnant women then?" she asked. He loved it when she pursed her lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Only you love."

"Then how do you know?"

"I just do." Her laughter shook under his hand and the baby kicked once more.

"You just WANT it to be a boy."

"Don't all men?" he asked seriously. They chuckled as they took back up their scan of the room. Neither felt bad that they weren't out on the floor with each other, dancing amidst the sea of masks. They would dance together later when they were alone, when they didn't have to worry about the sensibilities of those around them.

"Eireach and Sorsha seemed to be getting more comfortable around each other," Sarah mused, drawing him from the mists of his post masque plans.

"Yeah, I suppose," Sarah tilted her head at him.

"What do you know…?"

"How do you do that?" he asked, irritated at the ability even as he tried to suppress the pride at it.

"What do you know?" she asked again, her emerald eyes simmering.

"Oh fine," he sighed. No information was worth his wife REALLY being mad at him. "Eireach kissed Sorsha." He watched his wife's eyes go from simmering irritation to dumb surprise.

"But…she didn't tell us about that!"

"I would assume not. Knowing our proud girl, she wouldn't want to admit that she simply stood there with her mouth hanging open as he walked away." Sarah pursed her lips again, but with none of the amusement of before.

"What an ass."

"No, I don't think so," he said as he watched Sorsha and Eireach across the room, laughing like they'd never fought these past months.

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, something near anger tingeing her voice. "He kissed her and just walked off and you say that wasn't an asshole thing to do?" Jareth smiled as he took his wife's hand again, pressing his lips to the quickened pulse at her wrist.

"Would anything else have worked on Sorsha?"

Sarah huffed as she leaned back and looked over the crowds again, "I hate it when you're right."

"I don't," he played as he put his eyes back on the crowd. He grimaced as he realized that Lady Irelen was making her way, slowly, towards Sorsha and Eireach, and from the squeeze Sarah gave his hand, she's seen it too. Jareth hoped for the woman's sake that Sorsha was good and liquored up at this point…or maybe she shouldn't be. There was really no way to predict what Sorsha would do if confronted with her mother, so he simply sat and watched.

**Sorsha** was finally falling into a level of comfort with the evening and with Eireach. After the initial commotion over how she was dressed, people pretty much left them well enough alone. They had spent most of the time so far eating the dinner that Jeaule had laid out and simply talking with one another. It was amazing to find out that they could talk of things other than war and training.

She found out that his father was dead as well, though he didn't talk much of him. She found herself pondering what his childhood might have been like. He'd described his father as a loving, if stern at times, man who'd been a joy in his life. And described his mother, who was still living in the Goblin Kingdom, as a quiet, gentle woman of few words, content to sit for hours with her books.

At least she'd figured him out a bit. His father had instilled the need for a battle ready body and his mother had placed the love of literature in his mind. It was becoming increasingly enjoyable to learn about his life and that was new for her. Usually she didn't give two shakes about someone else, but since she'd been here…and since she'd met him, she admitted to herself…things had changed.

She still wasn't completely sure if the things she was feeling were her own, but at least she had control of her mind…she hoped. She hadn't had a drop of liquor that night, the last thing she needed was anything to impair her mind or heart if Kindraa really did have control of her. Sorsha wanted to be fully aware of herself and only hoped that she wouldn't question herself too much if push came to shove.

A tap on her shoulder distracted her from his current tale of teenage angst, "Um…Sorsha?" She didn't recognize the voice, but her heart plummeted when she turned and was faced by her mother. Her lips wouldn't form words and she knew she looked like a retarded goldfish, but she couldn't force any sound from her body. Her chest felt tight and she couldn't breathe, but she felt Eireach's hand in hers…she had that lifeline. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me."

"Probably?" The first word from her lips and she already regretted it. Her mother dropped her eyes as her husband came up behind her. Lord Isriam laid a hand on his wife's shoulder and looked pleadingly at Sorsha.

"She's been in agony since seeing you at the gala."

Sorsha raised a brow, "And…?"

"She wanted to talk to you."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Then let her talk." Sorsha felt Eireach's grip tighten supportively on her shoulder and was grateful for it. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to do this without him there, as pathetic as that made her sound to herself.

"You don't have to be so cross to her, she's been through a lot." Her temper boiled beneath her skin.

"SHE'S been through a lot!?" Again Eireach's hand squeezed her shoulder, but in an effort to calm her down. "She walked out and left me to that…that MAN and you stand there and tell me to be nice to her, to coddle her, because SHE'S had a bad life?" People were quieting, turning to stare at the commotion…murmuring excitedly, wondering if a fight would break out.

"I'm not telling you to hug her and eat cake together, I'm asking you for sympathy." Sorsha stepped back, feeling the warmth of Eireach's chest at her back and drawing strength from it.

"Why can't SHE ask for it?" Her mother simply bit her lip and averted her eyes yet again. "You know what, I think YOU want everything to be alright," she turned on Lord Isriam. "I think YOU want everything right in your little world and me being here is messing that all up." Her mother gave a little squeak and Sorsha suddenly felt no anger, only pity and release. "I have no sympathy to give, sir…I'm sorry, but that flew out the door with her when I was a child." If this was the woman she'd always wanted back in her life, then she was happy that she'd left. It might have left her alone with Kael, but at least she was never influenced by this sniveling waif of a woman. She was better without her.

"I won't forget this impudence," Lord Isriam hissed at her, wrapping an overprotective arm around his wife.

"Neither will I," Sorsha said, just loud enough for the man to hear as he stormed from the ballroom. She simply watched them leave, surprised to feel so released, so unmoved by the sight of her mother leaving her yet again.

"You alright?"

She was so at ease that she actually smiled when Eireach turned her around to face him, "Always with the fear of my wellbeing."

His jade eyes sparkled down at her, "It's a bigger job than I'd expected, but I like a challenge." He knew she was alright, she could see the tension leave his shoulders.

"I just wish that everyone would stop staring." He offered his arm and a smile.

"Best way would be to dance with me and get them talking about how dashing we look together instead of your outing of Lord Isriam as a total asshole." She let the laughter bubble up as he led her to the dance floor. There was something intoxicating about the power she felt now that she'd lost one of the chains that had bound her soul for so long.

There were so many other things she could spend her life doing than wallowing in the past. One of them pulled her close to him, resting one hand on the small of her back as the other whipped her hand up as they started dancing. Hadn't he been wonderful to her tonight?

She laughed inwardly as she admitted that he'd been nice to her for far longer than that, but she'd been blind to it, not wanting to see. It's true that Lord Isriam was a complete ass, her father had been right on that account, but that wasn't true for Eireach. Her father had painted all noblemen to be like Lord Isriam and while there was sure to be a handful that were, they weren't all.

She found it mortifying that it had taken her so long to realize that simple fact. Why in the name of all the gods had she fought so hard to keep him at arms length? Why hadn't she simply seen the man he was instead of the man her father had painted all noblemen to be? But the answer to that was simple, she supposed…she hadn't been ready to see it.

Oh, but she was now, she thought as she allowed herself the pleasure of resting her head on his shoulder. She didn't need to see his face to know that there was a pleased smile on his lips right now, but why shouldn't there be? He'd more than earned it, he'd earned far more, but he'd have to wait for her to catch up in that regard.

When the song ended, they made their way to their seats and fell into conversation with Jareth and Sarah on what they'd viewed of the guests so far.

"Have you seen anyone suspicious?" she asked. "I kept an eye out while I was out there." She blushed suddenly, "Of course, except for that last dance."

Sarah smiled over at her, "Of course." Sorsha didn't miss the complimentary wink Sarah sent Eireach, nor the way he suddenly sat up straighter, prouder.

"Oh Sorsha, I can't believe what happened out there!" Jeaule exclaimed as she sat down on the other side of Sarah. "I always envied those two, but gods…he's an ass."

"That seems to be the consensus of the evening." The topic drifted from her uncomfortable altercation with Lord Isriam into more pleasant conversation that had her relaxing all the further. She was enjoying a night with her friends she realized with a happy buzz and when she looked over at Eireach…that feeling was there again.

It was the same as the day she'd stormed off the field and he'd kissed her…it was the reason she'd stormed off the field in the first place. The gentle tightening of her heart and the strange coiling of emotion in her belly…it made her worried. She couldn't help that her mind drifted to Morrigan's warning to be sure of her heart. Sorsha knew that she cared for Eireach, but how did someone who'd never been in love tell if they were in love?

It might have been far easier if she wasn't worried about Kindraa's influence, but since she was…she questioned it. Though it made her sick to do so…she questioned it. What if the feelings that were coursing through her weren't real, weren't HERS? But could she live with herself if she never took the chance to find out if they were? When his eyes turned to her with that merry twinkle in them that was Eireach to the core, she knew she'd have to. Until she knew, she couldn't…wouldn't take a chance like that. She wouldn't hurt him.

**Something** so very familiar was lighting in her eyes, he realized as he watched her. It was just like the day he'd kissed her. They'd been joking and playing around and that wall of hers had flown up out of no where. That's how he saw her now, her face was paling and she had stopped talking with them.

He pulled his hand back from her shoulder, not wanting to set her off.

"What's wrong, Sorsha?" Jeaule asked…he wish she hadn't.

Sorsha ran a hand over her forehead, "I don't know, I guess I don't feel well…all this excitement," she joked weakly, trying to play it off he realized. But when he thought she would slip back into conversation, her eyes turned to his, something deep and cryptic in them before she excused herself. "I think I need to go lay down. It was a beautiful night." The rest of them wished her goodnight as she moved down the table and towards the door, no one commenting on the fact that she'd said nothing to Eireach.

"I think I have to go too," he said, getting up before any of them could comment. He pushed his way through the crowd, trying desperately to get through and to Sorsha before she got to her room and locked the door on the world again.

But luck seemed to be against him as he bumped into Kessy by the door, "Oh! Hello there," she stammered. He cringed to himself as she blushed. She had a crush on him…? Oh gods, he didn't have time for weirdly meek girls with hopeless crushes, not when the woman he loved was running to lock herself within her own fears again.

"I have to find Sorsha," he said, cutting off her hope harshly, but necessarily. He didn't have time to ease her out of it. He saw disappointment flash in her big blue eyes before she pointed out the doors. "Thank you, Kessy, really."

She smiled, weakly, but a smile none the less, "Sure." He ran down the hallway like his life depended on it…and in a way, a part of it did. He couldn't let Sorsha keep walling herself within her own fears anymore. She needed to learn that he was there for her, no matter what.

He'd seen her face when she'd left and it had scared him. The last thing he wanted was for her to do something stupid to herself just because of whatever it was that was frightening her so badly. He caught sight of her twisted vine skirt whipping around the corner.

"Wait!" he shouted as he caught up to her and grabbed her arm. "Whoa, déjà vu." Her dark brown eyes looked up with him, almost frightened to see him standing there. "What is wrong?"

"I told you all that I don't know, will you please just leave it at that?" Sorsha pleading? Something must be far more wrong than he'd thought.

"No."

"Why not?" He loosened his grip on her arm, but didn't let her go. He feared that if he did, she'd bolt off again and this time he wouldn't catch her. The last thing he was going to do was lose her.

"Because I care enough to ask."

"Don't," she all but whimpered.

"Don't what?"

"Do that."

"Do what, Sorsha…" he asked. "I can't read minds, dear."

"Don't be so nice to me," she said, looking up at him with sorrow in her eyes.

"Why shouldn't I?"

She exhaled, long and slow, "I don't know." She shrugged.

"You're very cryptic lately." He didn't pull her closer, not yet, she wasn't ready.

"I feel like…like," she looked up at him and he saw what was bothering her…she cared. He stepped closer now, pulling her to him slowly. She didn't fight him, but he noted that the fear was still in her eyes as his arms clasped around her waist.

"Is that what you're scared of…me?"

Her eyes lifted to his, scared yes, but sad too…like she wanted so much more than she was offering, "It's enough." His hands left her waist to cup her face gently.

"Can I?" It was a simple question, but she knew what he meant. She was shaking from the confusion he could see clearly in her eyes, but he held firm to her still.

"I don't kn-" He cut her off with a kiss. Not as demanding as the first, but a mere whisper of lips, a breath of connection before he pulled back.

"Stop me if you want to, but I really hope you don't."

She shook her head, her torment visible, "I don't want to hurt you."

That confused him, "I'm a big boy, Sorsha. Whatever decisions I make with you, I'll live with them. Don't worry about that…worry about what you want."

"That's the problem."

"Now what does that mean?" She looked around the hallway, frowning when she heard voices heading towards them.

"Can we get out of the hallway?"

He nodded, "Hold on." He teleported them to his rooms and lit the fire with an absent wave of his hand. The crackling fire danced over the walls of the room and it was the first time, oddly, that he found the effect romantic instead of simply soothing. She walked to the hearth, staring down into the flames. "Well, we're out of the hall, care to tell me what that meant?"

When she turned to him, that haunted look was in her eyes again, the one he only saw when her past was nipping at her memories, "I don't know what I feel for you." He started to say something, but she held up a hand, "No, please let me finish." So he simply stood there, watching the fire light shadow and light her face in turn with its flickers of light. "I've never felt anything for ANYONE before."

"There was only your father," he said before he could hold it back, but she smiled sadly at him.

"Yes, and he didn't exactly inspire love…so I don't know what it really feels like." He saw that there was more to the story, but she didn't look ready to tell him and he wasn't going to ask her for it, not tonight. Tonight, he wanted to show her something else.

He lifted his hand to her face again, "Let me show you."

She shivered as he touched her, "Please don't hate me if this isn't me." He didn't have time to think about her words because she launched herself into his arms, her lips crushing to his with a wildness that startled him.

There was so much here, so much more than he'd thought he'd find and he savored the honor of receiving it.

**(A/N: The next chapter will be up in just a couple days…it's just a short sexy time chapter. For those of you who don't want to read mature content…PLEASE don't read the next chapter then! Hope you all enjoyed the nice long chapter and I can't wait to read your reviews! The readers who made even happier this week by reviewing were:**

**darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**Thanks guys!)**


	17. Release

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story. **

**!!Reminder!! This is a mature chapter, if you wish not to read mature situations, do not read any further. Thank you.**

Eireach gripped at her waist, there was a fire in her kiss that threatened to consume them both if he didn't tame it quickly. His mind struggled to tell his fingertips to be soft as they slid slowly up her sides, pulling shivers and a whimper from her lips. That one sound almost did him in, that slow feminine purr that sent men's blood racing, but he reigned in his furious obsession and forced himself to draw back. 

He cupped her face and lifted her eyes to his, they were hazy with the sudden passion and held enough of the confusion from before to slow his pulse. He had to be more careful with her. Sorsha was a feast meant to linger over, not consumed in a fireball of heat. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice a husky whisper as her eyes stared hungrily at the lips that had abandoned hers. A quick curse was sent his way for the parting, her body had been singing and he'd silenced it with the simple removal of those annoyingly soft lips. Determined fervor had her staring down in vain at her dress, "How do you take this damn thing off?" 

He watched her make a quick circle looking for a zipper or buttons on the dress, like a dog chasing its tail. It was awkwardly sweet and he placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her. 

"Sorsha...Sorsha," he said, trying to grasp her attention. Her eyes were glazed, but he needed to clear those last nagging strings of uncertainty that lingered there. "Sometimes, especially the FIRST time, it's better to savor than to devour."

She stepped back from him, looking up into those impossibly green eyes, wondering why they looked back at her with such adoration. What had she done to earn it? What had she done to earn the look that she saw there, the feelings it brought out in her? She sighed and laid her hands on his chest. 

"When I'm around you," she started, her voice shakier than she would have liked. "When I'm around you...I feel things...things I don't know how to explain." Her eyes were the deep rich color of the earth when she looked back up at him...a luminescence in them now that sang of a certainty yet ungrasped. He clung to it like a lifeline. "That's why I don't know what to think." 

Strangely touched at her show of vulnerability, her brushed the back of his hand over her cheek, "Then let me try to seduce you instead of simply taking each other on the rug." She seemed wary of what he might term a seduction, but her body sang against him, small tremors of delight, when he skimmed his teeth over her bottom lip. 

This was power, he thought with a sudden drunken punch to the gut...and he hoped to all the gods he could think of that he could hold tight to it. But she seemed like a ball of fire in his arms, all too ready to flash and burn them both to sexual cinders. He had to keep things slow, had to keep them enticing. 

As he delved further into her, he realized that, like her eyes, the taste of her was a deep earthiness that had him imagining laying her down in a bed of fairy moss with the full moon bathing her in its magical light. 

"Stop." 

"Wha...what?" Sorsha stumbled forward when he pulled back suddenly. 

"I need a minute to think." The vision was clouding his mind and he would rush through this when he when he wanted to linger, to savor her tonight. 

"I knew it wasn't right," he heard her say through the haze of his daydream. Her arms pulled back from him and wrapped around herself. Shite. 

"No, no," he stammered, grabbing her arm. He laughed to himself as he wondered why he'd thought this would go so smoothly. It WAS Sorsha he'd chosen after all. "That's not what I meant. It's just, if I had kept doing that...if WE had kept doing that...I wouldn't have made of this night what I wanted to." 

He was a constant wonder, she thought as she stared up into eyes gone bright and brilliant glassy green. How could one man confound her so? She found herself smirking and running a finger down the lapel of his jacket in an uncharacteristic move. 

"And what do you want to make of it?" 

"Magic," he answered simply, his voice deeper...somehow richer for the passion in it as he pulled her towards the balcony doors. Her body stiffened. "Are you frightened?" 

"Not of you." He watched the flat terror in her eyes as she stared at the closed doors. Her fingers were clenched white in his and he knew that look, had seen it before when her father's brain washings had flooded her memory. Damn her father. 

"Will you work through this one with me?" 

Her smile was quick and cocky as her eyes snapped back to him, "Like I haven't worked through a few with and because of you already?"

"Well," he said, squeezing her hand. "If I've proven adequate thus far...?" He gestured towards the door, but didn't urge her forward. 

She took a deep breath, returning the squeeze in a silent gesture of agreement that she couldn't quite bring to words. It took every measure of control over muscles she'd toned and sculpted all her life to force her body to relax as she followed him to the door. Every sinew wanted to go ridged and immovable when the chill night air of winter brushed over her skin. She could smell the snow and a second later, she could see it dusting the view with its powdery brilliance, but she'd seen as much through a window. It was quite another thing to step out on the unprotected stone of the balcony. 

"It's so cold," she shivered as they stepped out into the frosty air on the balcony...the first time she'd done so in her entire lifetime. 

"Come here." 

He pulled her closer to him and the air warmed around them. Magic, she thought with a mental kick. What hadn't she thought of that? Because her mind very rarely leaned on magic, she thought...another of her father's teachings. She added a bit of her own magic to the heating spell in silent spite of it. 

"Better?" She nodded faintly, but he saw her eyes looking at anything but him. She was still nervous of her father's ghost, waiting for it to pop out of the stone of the castle to chastise her for showing herself on the balcony. "No one can see us up here," he soothed, rubbing her arms though they were no longer chilled. 

"I'd really just like to get back to the kissing." 

He smirked as one brow quirked up, "Rushing things again are we?"

"No, trying to find that comfort in you again. Being out here makes me think too much of the past and I'd rather be here with you in the now." She wound her arms around his waist, if a bit self-consciously...like she was waiting for a rebuke. He slid his arms around her too, wanting her to never fear touching him. 

"Then let me bring you back to now," he said, kissing the snowflakes from her eyelashes. "Look at me," he implored when he pulled back to look at her. "I want to see your eyes when I kiss you." She didn't jolt or shiver when his lips grazed over hers, but her eyes remained on his. It intrigued him that she could do that and yet her body stiffened slightly as the tips of his fingers brushed over her breasts. 

No one had ever touched her with such casual intimacy before and her mind was reeling. His touch brought a blinding flash of heat to her core that shocked her. But what dazzled her mind all the further, as his hands continued their lazy and tortuous exploration, was the knowledge that only a few thin layers of material separated his skin from hers. 

And soon, even that barrier would be gone. 

He looked so effortlessly adorable with the snow clinging to those burnt orange curls. She let her fingers sink into the silky mass of them when his mouth lowered to nibble and sample her neck and shoulders. The last thing she'd expected was this furious, bright passion that had erupted at his touch, but he seemed to pull it from her with each flick of his tongue on her over-sensitized skin and ever nip of teeth at the pulse on her throat.

He needed to touch her, to feel his skin against hers, "Come inside with me."

Eireach felt her lips smile on his, "I thought we were working through my fears."

"I think you're sufficiently over your fear of this balcony." He teased as she nipped at his bottom lip. The strained groan ripped from him as she reached down to cup him.

"I guess you're right, but there are so many other balconies." She saw the shock in his eyes and watched them flick down to her hand for an instant. With a smirk, she realized that he'd thought this would be her first time. Her father had kept tabs on her, but no parent was that observant. Her chuckle was low and seductive, "I grew up in a society of thieves, Eireach…not a convent." His eyes darkened, not with anger though.

"Well now," he smirked, pulling her back inside his room, the door swinging shut behind them and the heavy tapestry curtains slid into place. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about being QUITE as nice as he'd planned. The thought kicked his pulse into a higher gear. He'd thought that he would have to be gentle and caring to get her through what he thought was her first time. And while it bothered him to know that someone else had touched what he'd claimed as his own, if only in his mind…he couldn't really hold it against her when he wasn't exactly 'pure' himself. "Then what the hells am I bothering with all this seduction for?" he teased.

"Because you wanted OUR first time to be special and I think that we can still manage that." His arms wrapped around her, his fingers seeking the buttons he'd spied running up her back.

"Oh, I'll still make it special, but it's nice to know I don't have to treat you like porcelain." Her laughter rippled over him at that, it was nice to see that the confusion had been wiped from her eyes. Now those deep brown eyes twinkled devilishly as they looked up at him.

"The last thing I want you to do is treat me like a porcelain doll." She put a gloved finger in her mouth and drew the glove off slowly, repeating the action with her other hand before running her hands under his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. "Too many layers," she pouted when she was met with a vest and an undershirt still.

"Then let's deal with you first." His fingers worked the buttons slowly as his lips captured hers again, drowning once more in the flavor of her. It was painful what her mouth was able to do to him, no one had ever brought this raging desire from the depths of his soul before and it all but blinded him. But he forced his fingers to move, to remove the barrier between his hands and her skin.

His heart skipped a beat as her elegant dress pooled at her feet in a pile of vines, "Look at you," he exhaled slowly as he took her in, the flush creeping delicately over a body that was anything but delicate. He'd known that she was strong, that she'd worked on her body, but the sculpted beauty saw now was beyond what he'd imagined. She was sleek, but the muscle under the surprisingly soft skin of her body was firm and toned to perfection.

Her fingers opened his vest and pulled his undershirt over his head quickly, "It always made me so mad how wonderful you looked on the training field without your shirt on, your muscles…muscles that pissed me off as well…how they rippled as you swung that long sword at me." She leaned forward and kissed his chest, "You're far more than I ever gave you credit for and even though it always enraged me…I always wanted to put my hands on you, even if I wouldn't admit that to myself."

"I think I've had a bigger shock here. I've never had the buffer of seeing you without your shirt on…so give me a moment." 

She laughed, delighted at the fumble, but gasped when he moved, quick as light, to her. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought that he'd been in such a rush that he teleported the short distance. Either way, his hands were on her in a minute, his mouth sliding over her skin like velvet. He scooped her up into his arms, so her eyes were level with his and when their lips met once more, the heat flared within her again.

How did the bed get beneath her? Magic again, she thought before her mind misted over again…his hands and, oh gods that mouth, set to work on her again. Never had a man touched her and gotten this reaction, never had they made her actual mind stumble for a thought, but she reveled in it as his mouth dipped lower and lower.

He'd been so right, she was a feast…a bountiful feast after far too long a fast, but even here he forced himself to be slow, lingering over the diverse tastes and textures that were Sorsha. With every sigh and shiver that escaped her, she fed his own arousal.

When her damnable, curious hands came too close to breaking his carefully garnered control, he took them in his own, pinning them to her sides as he continued his meticulous ravishment of her breasts. She was building beneath him, he could feel the power growing within her, dark and potent. He gripped both of her hands in one of his own above her head as his other cupped her heat and drove her ruthlessly over the edge until she arched beneath him with a strangled cry.

She melted under him on a sigh, "Oh wow."

His lips curved as she kissed her, "And I've only just started with you."

"You'll kill me," she laughed breathily.

"I'll try," he answered, his lips curving wickedly.

Her mind clouded once more as clever hands caressed her breasts and that devilishly talented mouth of his glided its way down her torso. When his mouth closed over her, he pulled her nearly to the edge before trailing his mouth away to nip his way, teasingly along her thigh. He really was trying to kill her, she decided when his hands gripped at her hips, adjusting her before setting stars in her eyes once more.

Her hands gripped in those glorious curls as her hips took on a life of their own, "Eireach, for the love of the gods." His fingers tightened on her hips, getting a better hold and…everything went bright. The sheer brilliance of it blinded her, all but scorching her very soul with its radiance. Surely she was nothing but a ball of energy now, for there was no way such a feeling could be contained within the frail shell of her body.

His hands and mouth simply owned her until he caged her into a prison of seemingly never ending need and desire. Half wild with it, her hands pulled gently at curls, lifting his lips back to hers before capturing them with a ferocity that surprised them both. Nails, short from training, raked down his back and fingers pushed desperately at the waist of his pants.

"Oh screw this," she growled, using magic to gain her means for the first time that night as she dissolved the pants from him. "I want…" she started before simply rolling him over till she straddled his stomach.

His heart gripped in his chest as she touched and tasted him, her lips at his neck nearly breaking the control he already had on a short leash. When she bit at his neck, her nails raked down his abdomen, sending his body into a fit of shivers he'd never experienced. How could this woman's mere touch have him near that glorious precipice of release?

"Sorsha…" he pleaded.

She tsked, "Now, now…you got to tease me."

"Yes, but…oh gods," he faltered when she gripped him, his breath and heart catching in his throat.

"I hadn't planned to tease long," she smiled down at him, the firelight streaming through her hair. It looked like a wheat field on fire, was his last thought as she slipped around him. Overcome with emotion, he sat up to take her lips, pulling her close, just holding her there for a moment, connected…melded to him.

He laid her back against the covers and began to move, long, slow thrusts that pulled pleased moans from her. When she began to move with him, her hips and eyes begging for more, he smiled, kissed her forehead and kept his pace. 

Her eyes flashed playfully, he wanted to play it that way did he? she thought with a devilish grin. Fine, that would only make it more interesting. Bracing a strong leg, she pushed, rolling him back to his back and pinning him down before pistoning her hips relentlessly. His shocked gasp melded to a deep throated growl of approval as he gripped madly at her hips, pulling her down on him roughly, joining them even more fully than they had. 

Her eyes went wide with shock as her body arched above him. He felt the surprising orgasm rip through her as she gripped around him like a vise. A tortured groan fought to make its way from his throat as he watched her, a goddess above him in the fire light. When her eyes cleared, the look in them pushed him past all reason.

He wrapped her legs around his waist, his lips imprisoning hers as he moved, pinning her against the giant headboard. He slid his hands up her legs, reveling in the strength and softness that mixed in them, tantalizing his brain as he took her, relentlessly, closer to the edge. 

The animal within him took over as he fixed his mouth on her throat, driving her as she bucked and shuddered, clinging to him desperately. She was impossibly hot, gloriously wet, deliciously strong and shockingly soft all at once in his arms. She was simply an intoxicating combination that sent his system into overload.

Sorsha let her head fall back, abandoning herself to the sensation of being helpless and the drugging sensation of being thoroughly ravished. Her nails, short as they were, scored his back as they mated with a kind of unruly primitiveness that had her heart weeping for more. 

His fingers dug bruises into her hips as they pushed each other fore still more. Lips found hers once more, capturing her sobbing breaths as their lips met in frenzy. His breath caught, a primeval surge of power as her breath caught and she closed viciously around him once more.

The climax ripped at her like claws, one long rake that sliced through her fiercely. Helpless against the power of it, she gripped his shoulders, threw her head back and surrendered to it and felt him stumble over the edge with her.

They stayed like that for a while, sweaty, weak and quivering in each others arms. He leaned against her as they tried desperately to regain their breath, slick, bruised flesh resting against slick, bruised flesh. 

"I'm a little dizzy," Eireach managed, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Me too," Sorsha laughed weakly as they sunk down to the bed together, staring up at the ceiling, dazed, amused…and spent. They gave each other a moment to regain some semblance of civility before Eireach braced himself up on his elbow and looked down at her, skin still slick, pulse still kicking pleasantly in her throat.

"That's not exactly what I'd envisioned." She turned her head, pursed lips and narrowed eyes. He laughed delightedly, brushing hair from her face, "It was far better."

Sorsha tried to hide the satisfied smirk as she looked back up at the ceiling, "Damn straight it was."

"Stay with me tonight," he asked, trailing his fingers over the curve of her breast. He saw the hesitation in her eyes. "I don't think I'm done with you yet." The hesitation melted into hazed pleasure as his fingers teased her anew.

"How could I refuse that…?" she asked with a grin, drawing his face down to hers.

**(A/N: Yes…this turned into a chapter all it's own apparently. LOL They had a lot to say and do to each other that I hadn't quite planned on. Either way, sorry this took so long…and this WILL be taking place of the Saturday chapter because it took me so long to write. There's no way I'll be able to get a full chapter out to you guys by tomorrow. Sorry, hope you can all forgive me. ******** Those who read and reviewed last chapter and made me uber happy were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Eternal Eyes, Kerichi, notwritten, and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys, much love!)**


	18. Congratulations, it's a

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Muffled** voices stirred Sorsha from sleep the next morning. As her eyes blinked open groggily, her heart tightened in her chest for one brief moment. Where was she? The warm, green décor was unfamiliar, but once her mind cleared from the sleepy haze, the night before came streaming back to her mind.

She felt it in her muscles, they were stiff and sore…and she felt exquisite. She let herself fall back onto the plush pillows and shook her head. How had she spent her whole life being stowed away from noblemen and their like only to end up in one's bed? Life never ceased to amaze her.

But the morning wasn't as bright as it might have been…Eireach was there to bother. She had to admit to herself that she'd kind of wanted to be woken up to another round with him. Another satisfied smirk spread over her face as she realized that's just what it was like between them, a very sexy wrestling match.

So where was he when she was in the mood for round one of the morning?

His voice, what had woken her up in the first place, sounded from his library. She shook her head as she laughed to herself, the man was a nerd at his core. Damned if she knew why that was actually a turn on. He wasn't at all the kind of man she'd pictured herself with…perhaps he still wasn't. Something unsettling tugged at her mind, but she slammed the door on it before it took hold.

She pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around herself, her mind, as usual, not thinking to use magic to conjure up some clothing. She was almost to the door when it clicked in her head that he was talking to someone. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she tried to pick up what he was saying on the other side of the door. It was something about land agreements, but she couldn't pick out any more than that.

It honestly didn't matter because there were emotions mixing within her that threatened to splinter the door in front of her if she didn't get a handle on them. He'd let someone in, someone had walked through the room to get into that library. That meant Eireach had paraded someone right through the room and that someone had surely seen her in his bed. The flush that crept over her skin embarrassed and infuriated her.

"Look, Cyric…geez," he sounded irritated, but her blood was pounding too loudly in her ears for her to notice. He let CYRIC in? Why didn't he just shout from the turrets that they'd slept together? The arrogant bastard, who said that she wanted everyone…anyone…to know that they'd been together?

Not about to make a scene in a bed sheet, Sorsha closed herself in the bathroom to stew while he had his little man chat with Cyric. Who knew when Jareth would show up with the scotch to celebrate? she thought bitterly as she filled the tub. Once the water was steaming, Sorsha lowered herself into the scorching hot depths of it and closed her eyes.

Her father's voice echoed in her mind as the water scalded away the pleasant memories of the night she'd had with Eireach. 'He's just like all the others,' her father raged in her mind. 'Look! He's invited friends over to brag over it already!'

Perhaps it HAD been a mistake…? Perhaps last night shouldn't have happened. She felt her father's approval, felt that cool, calculating stare on her skin. Certainly there was no way she should mix with a nobleman. Her father chanted, 'yes, yes,' in her mind and her eyes snapped open.

NO, she thought viciously. There was no way she was going to fall victim to her father's words again. Never again.

Eireach wasn't like that, he WASN'T. He was discussing land agreements, not how she stacked up in bed. Sure, he shouldn't have brought Cyric in that morning, he should have cancelled the appointment or rescheduled or something, but that was no reason to start doubting what had happened the night before.

She didn't want to think that the night before had been a mistake. Kindraa popped into her mind, but even that she pushed aside. Being with Eireach had felt too right to be a mistake, too good. Damn Kindraa and damn her father, she thought as she dunked her head to wash her hair, damn them both right to the deepest pit of all the hells.

**Morrigan** took a deep sigh as she looked out the window of her tower. She was nearly the same distance from each of the three land castles of the Underground and yet she felt so far away from each. She should have been spending more time with Sorsha, but she'd been so caught up in trying to decide what she was going to do about Kindraa.

It was a rotten excuse and Morrigan knew it. It was just as bad as having left her poor Sorsha with that bastard for all those years. She should have been sent to the Darkness for losing the girl in Underflow. There was nothing she could do, for all her powers, about that now though, but she could issue a warning. She could do that much for Sorsha…for all the good it might do.

Without telling her husband where she was going, for he would try to stop her, she teleported herself to the throne room of Damien's castle, appalled that the fool hadn't even attempted to set up barriers. Even more surprised that Kindraa hadn't. But perhaps this is just what the demon had wanted, she certainly had reason to have the upper hand against Morrigan.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Kindraa sauntered into the throne room with all the swagger and dress of a woman who belonged there. She was shocked that the demon would wear the clothing of royalty, it was absurd and presumptuous, but Morrigan supposed that was exactly what Kindraa had meant by doing so. Morrigan didn't fear her red eyes, her sharp as dagger nails, nor did she fear the hint of the demon within the disguise that Kindraa had always let her see. Kindraa could do nothing to her, she was merely a demon, but she was a hazard none the less.

"I wondered when you would gather up the nerve to see me, Morrigan," the demon hissed as she lounged in the king's throne.

"I see you've made yourself quite comfortable here, demon." Red eyes flashed and small flicks of flame danced from her hair at the informal greeting. Morrigan chalked it up as a small victory.

But the demon regained her composure in short measure, "Yes, that fool of a king is quite easy to move around the chess board I've made of the Underground."

"He won't be a king for long, Kindraa…we both know that."

Kindraa's red eyes danced merrily, "Oh I know, but that will make it easier for me to take over here."

"Is that what you see in your own path?" Morrigan teased, knowing the demon was unable to see her own road, the downfall of her powers. Kindraa hissed from her seat, like a flame doused with water.

"I don't need to see it, I know it." Morrigan took a step closer to the demon, showing her that she wasn't afraid of her.

"How do you know, demon? Your powers are but the annoying buzz of an insect next to mine."

"Aye, but you don't use what you have to its full potential," Kindraa said, slithering from the throne to approach Morrigan.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Delight danced in molten pools of red, "I know how to use what's available to me." Fire coursed through Morrigan's veins at the insinuation.

"I don't know or care who your little spy is in Cyric's castle, Sorsha will weed them out." She moved forward in a flash and gripped at Kindraa's neck, "But if you so much as touch my girl…I'll kill you myself, do you understand me?"

Kindraa laughed in her grip, "If you were going to kill me, you'd have done it by now."

"I couldn't kill you before because I had no lawful reason," icy anger slid through her words. "You were merely a pest that I had caged for a time." Her fingers tightened around the demon's throat, her nails digging into false flesh, drawing blood that was black as pitch. "But this is an official warning, demon," she said as Kindraa let more of her disguise slip, the rocky, molten…fearsome features becoming more apparent, sharp, vicious teeth barring in anger. "If you touch my girl…I will kill you."

The first twinges of fear began to show in the demon's eyes when Morrigan shoved her back and the disguise slipped back into place. Morrigan turned to leave, sickened to even be in the same room with such a creature.

"Be sure to tell your GIRL that I wish her the best of luck with that darling nobleman of hers." Morrigan whipped around on Kindraa.

"Are you playing with her?" The demon shrugged, obviously not inclined to answer and Morrigan couldn't tell if she was bluffing. "Remember my warning Kindraa…remember it well."

A devilishly wicked grin spread slowly over the demon's face, "I'm not touching her."

**Eireach** closed the communication orb and rubbed harshly at his eyes, hoping to the gods that he hadn't woken Sorsha when Cyric had aggravated him. Cyric was a smart man and all…and Eireach was proud of all the man had learned since taking the throne, but GODS, sometimes he wanted to wring the man's neck.

He thought too often with his heart and that could be a king's downfall far too easily. There was and always would be a measure of leeway for matters like that, but a king had to know when to put his foot down as well. That fat bastard from Tent City was trying to intrude on some of the land that Eireach had felt should go to Pitte. And Cyric, instead of putting his foot down and telling the man off, wanted to talk Pitte into a bargain.

Eireach tried to explain to him how that would insult the farmer since the land had already been promised him and his family had already settled it. They were even now preparing for the spring thaw when they could plant and build what Eireach had known the family would. He could see how it would be, the lush fields of wheat waving in the breeze, ready for harvest.

Just the thought of the fields had him thinking of her hair and Eireach realized that matters of heart were far too difficult to ignore or put on the backburner. He decided to give Cyric a little more time to settle into how things worked as a king instead of a nobleman who owned lots of land. But as for Eireach, for the first time in a long time, he was glad that he hadn't ended up with a crown.

It gave him far more time to wake the woman in the next room and act out the wicked fantasies that had been playing through his mind as he spoke with Cyric. And oh how he'd wanted to tell Cyric, but that wouldn't be fair to Sorsha. He had no idea if she would want anyone to know that they'd been together. That's why he'd cancelled his meeting with Cyric that morning, opting for the communication crystal instead and claiming a hangover from the night's festivities.

It's not like he could have had Cyric in his rooms with Sorsha sleeping right there in his bed. What would she have thought of that, he wondered with a grin on his face. She would have ripped his throat out is what she would have done. Pleased that he hadn't done anything to incur her wrath that morning, he opened the door and walked back into the main room.

Regret came swiftly when he saw that she wasn't in his bed anymore. He pursed his lips and smacked absently at his thigh. Perhaps she'd woken up and been disgusted with herself. Or embarrassed. He really hoped that she'd merely been embarrassed. What would he do if she'd decided that last night had been a mistake? His heart gripped, sickened by the very thought. He didn't want to find out.

Turning back to his library, he decided not to go after her. If he did, it would only push her further from him. Sorsha wasn't the kind of girl that you wooed incessantly, but how long, he wondered, would he have to hold out before she realized as he did, that they were perfect together?

The sound of water sloshing in his bathroom stalled his thoughts. Perhaps he wouldn't have to hold out quite as long as he'd thought. His heart kicked into gear as he realized that she was still there. She hadn't left. She was in his bathroom. What did he do now? Nonchalant or seductive…?

Little bit of both, he decided with a grin as he gripped the door to the bathroom. After last night, he had a new insight into the woman he'd chosen and he figured that she'd appreciate it. The door swung open to a sinful view of a water soaked Sorsha slipping a towel around herself. The bathroom was humid, she must have bathed in fire was his only thought as the steam escaped around him.

"Do you know how to knock?"

He smirked, "Yes." But his smile faded quickly when he saw that she wasn't amused. Her lips were set, a sure sign that she wasn't in a good mood. Eireach frowned, what was wrong?

"Is Cyric gone yet?" Her tone was quiet and lethal.

"What…?"

She rolled her eyes as she wrung the water from her hair, "I heard him in the library with you." Her eyes bored into his, their message ringing clear though she said nothing…did the two of you have a nice chat?

"I think you're confused here, Cyric was never in the room." She snorted as pulled the towel tighter, but he could see the embarrassment starting to creep in as she realized that she'd jumped the gun on assuming he'd let someone in. "I wouldn't have done that to you, Sorsha." He explained to her how he'd cancelled the meeting and had the communication crystal set up instead. "I wouldn't have brought someone in, I don't know if you want to admit you've been with me," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

She chuckled though she tried to hide it, "It is rather revolting isn't it? Falling into the bed of a nobleman." She tsked herself before her shoulders fell. "Okay, okay…I'm sorry I assumed that you were an ass and were showing off."

He grinned and closed the distance between them, "Now we get to make up, don't we?" He trailed his finger along the top of her towel hopefully. Sorsha pushed his hand off of the towel with no little regret.

"As much as I would love to spend some more time with you, we're finding out what Sarah and Jareth's baby is today." Eireach watched as her eyes widened, a panic setting in. "Oh gods, they'll be stopping by soon to pick me up…if they haven't already."

With a grin, Eireach tugged playfully at her towel again, "Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Stop it," she chastised in vain.

"We've got time before they get-" A knock at his door cut off the words and sent all the blood rushing from Sorsha's face when they heard it creak open. Sorsha's mouth fell open with a silent oath and the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Eireach? Cyric said that you were up…you better be dressed."

"Sarah?" Sorsha hissed out, pulling the towel to her chin. "Oh gods," she said slowly, all but dropping the towel in her dead mortification. "My dress…."

"Oh my," they heard Sarah from out in the main room. Eireach rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what he should do. He only hoped Sorsha wouldn't die of embarrassment before this was over.

"Want me to go out there…?" Sorsha shook her head and brought a hand up to rub her face.

"No…I guess they would have found out eventually."

Eireach smirked, doing his best to contain the excitement her words had stoked, "Why, are you planning on making this a habit?"

"How could I pass up that delightful wit?"

"I'd appreciate you two joining us whenever you're done messing around in there," they heard Jareth on the other side of the bathroom door. The blood rushed back to Sorsha's face in a violent rush that had her averting her eyes from Jareth though they couldn't see each other. "And do hurry it up, Eireach…I want to see my boy."

"Don't you mean you want to find out if it IS a boy?" Eireach asked, trying to divert Jareth's ill-timed humor.

"Is that what I said?"

Eireach rolled his eyes and turned to Sorsha, "Well, you can't very well face them in a towel."

Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed dangerously, "What do you suggest? My dress is out there and I don't exactly have a change of clothes here." He knew that his smile only irritated her, but she really was confounding sometimes.

"You have magic, my dear," he said as he tossed a crystal at her, her usual attire materializing around her, perhaps a bit more snug than usual. "But we can see about leaving a spare outfit here." Sorsha bit at her cheek, refusing to smirk.

"Jerk."

He conjured himself an outfit and bent down to kiss her cheek, "I love it when you use your endearments for me." She gave a huff of laughter and rolled her eyes, sobering instantly when he opened the bathroom door. Jareth rose from the armchair a look of good-natured irritation on his face.

"Remind me to delay when the two of you are going through this," he said, motioning to Sarah's bump. Eireach cringed, looking out of the corner of his eye at Sorsha…she was blushing violently.

He gave Sarah a look of thanks when she stepped forward to defend Sorsha, the poor thing wasn't at all used to this…she'd barely gotten used to the thought of simply being with him, "Jareth, be nice…it's not like they're married. They just had sex."

"Oh gods," Sorsha muttered, humiliated, her face falling into her hands. Eireach wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Better get used to it unfortunately, Jareth isn't going to let up." Jareth shook his head in agreement and Sarah smiled sympathetically.

"He won't be an ass," Sarah promised as they left, Eireach's arm still around Sorsha's shoulders.

Jareth quirked a brow, "How do you know?"

"Because you'll have to answer to me if you are."

"Damn." Sarah gave Sorsha a reassuring grin as they walked down the hall and Eireach was pleased when he felt her shoulders relax under his arm. They walked in peace, Jareth and Sarah leading the way, until Jeaule and Cyric turned the corner.

Jeaule spotted Sarah first, "Hey! We stopped by to pick Sorsha up, but she wasn't in her ro-" Jeaule cut off when she spotted Sorsha behind Sarah. "Oh! You found her then." Eireach smirked, knowing that Jeaule had realized that his arm was around Sorsha's shoulder, but Cyric had and a smile was tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, she was in Eireach's room," Jareth said, causing Sorsha's shoulders to tense again. When Jeaule merely smiled, Jareth's smile spread, enjoying the fact that he would get to embarrass Sorsha again. It was intriguing how the king had become Sorsha's older brother in the way he acted with her. "Yeah, she and Eireach did it." Jeaule's eyes widened and Cyric's smile went a mile wide.

Sarah socked her husband's chest, "So eloquent."

"So that's why you cancelled our meeting this morning," Cyric smirked and Eireach was sure he was resisting the urge to clap and congratulate them both simply because Sorsha was red as a beet again.

"Okay, we were intimate, fabulous…can we go find out what this baby is already?" Eireach said, trying desperately to divert the conversation. He would have trouble enough with Sorsha without them making her even more self-conscious about being with him. Cyric and Jareth took the hint and shut their mouths, though he was sure that the smiles wouldn't leave their lips for some time.

**Sarah** took a deep breath as they walked through the door to Healer Jayachin's clinic of sorts. Sarah was hardly sure that this was a clinic by Aboveground standards, but it was spotless, that much was for sure. And why was she so nervous?

It wasn't like they were cutting her open or anything, they weren't even drawing blood. All Healer Jayachin was going to do was place a scrying bowl over her bump and see if she was able to determine the sex. Why should she be so damned nervous for something as simple as that?

Maesia was there waiting for them, chatting cheerfully with the bright eyed young healer, "My dear, you look ready to throw up. Aren't you past the sickness?" Her mother in law moved to her side and placed a hand to her forehead. Healer Jayachin also moved to her side, shoulder length, dark blonde hair swinging behind her long, supple frame. It would have been comical to watch, but Sarah felt herself inexplicably moved. "Oh no, what's wrong?" Maesia asked when the first tear slipped out.

"Nothing," Sarah insisted, gripping Maesia's hand in hers. "I'm just glad you're here."

Understanding lit in Maesia's green eyes, "The hormones," she said, nodding. "I remember that, get used to it…it only gets worse."

"Damn it," Sarah muttered good-naturedly as her friends took seats in the waiting room. Jareth's hand was at her back, his thumb rubbing gently to soothe her.

"Are you two ready?" Healer Jayachin asked with an amiable smile as Maesia sat next to Jeaule. "Or would you like a moment?"

Knowing that if she asked for a moment, Jareth was likely to spontaneously combust from the frustration of proving himself right on the sex of the baby, Sarah nodded. "Wish us luck," she teased back to her friends.

"I hope it's a GIRL!" Cyric called out with a cheeky grin. Jeaule smacked him and as the door to the treatment room closed, Sarah heard a loud thud followed by a laughing, "Damn, Jareth…it was a joke!" She gave her husband a slanted look to which he merely smiled, shrugged and lifted her to the examination chair…I feat she could have easy accomplished herself. Her eyes were level with his now and the gleam in them told her not to snap at him for so kind a gesture.

"As if I would."

"Reading my mind again, love?"

"As always." He grinned at her and gave her a kiss before helping her lean back, one hand cradling her head as if she were a baby. She rolled her eyes, but the amused smile remained.

Healer Jayachin abandoned the shelving on the other side of the room and joined them, a squat bowl resting in her hands, "I sure hope the little one doesn't have their legs crossed!"

"Me too," Jareth said with less amusement. Sarah bit back the chuckle, he really had something to prove here. Silently, she wished it was a girl…if not for the simple pleasure of knocking him down a peg. But honestly, she wanted a boy too…she'd always wanted a boy first. She reached out for Jareth's hand and was steadied when his fingers laced through hers.

Healer Jayachin placed the bowl on Sarah's belly after lifting the shirt Sarah had worn that day. Several drops from numerous bottles were dropped carefully into the liquid surface within the bowl and Sarah watched the colors dance. The liquid within the bowl, for she was sure it wasn't actually water, darkened, turning black as the colors danced over it. It was like watching colored chalk being swirled on a large chalkboard.

Finally, the colors began to settle and she felt Jareth's fingers tighten on hers. The healer leaned over the bowl, looking carefully as Sarah's heart beat wildly in her chest. She could feel Jareth's pulse nearly matching her own, could sense his eagerness.

Their eyes were both trained on the healer as she straightened up and smiled at them, "Well what is it?" Jareth asked quickly.

"It's a boy!"

Sarah's smile was nearly warning when she turned and kissed her beaming husband. His eyes danced, clearly telling her 'I told you so.'

"Oh shut up."

**(A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!! You all knew it was going to be a boy! LOL I felt bad for poor Sorsha, I hadn't planned to make it quite that embarrassing for her, but that's what happened. Also hadn't planned on the Morrigan/Kindraa thing till a little later, but I felt it fit nicely here. Hope ya'll agree! Those who read and reviewed the last chapter…I know several of you wouldn't since it was a sexy time chapter and that's fine ********…were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady, Eternal Eyes, notwritten, phantome101 and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys, much love as always!)**


	19. Acclimating

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

**Sorsha** fidgeted as they waited for Sarah and Jareth to find out if the prediction of a boy was a good one or not. But Sorsha's mind was focused on anything but the sex of the unborn prince or princess. It simply wasn't settling in her mind that apart from Jareth teasing her, which she'd expected of him, no one acted as if what had happened between herself and Eireach was anything but normal.

As her eyes traveled to the closed door, she realized that she knew everyone's mind was on the baby right now. She wasn't be so self centered to think that she would come before something so important as the new little prince, but she couldn't help but wonder if everyone would still act as if this were so normal when the excitement of not knowing was over. Would they still all act as if they'd simply been waiting for it to happen?

Even now, Eireach was sitting there next to her, his arm draped casually over the back of her chair as if it and she along with it was naturally his. Sorsha wasn't sure if that irked or flattered her more. Either way, things had fallen into comfortable far too fast and neatly. Should she fall into place too or was this all too convenient?

Her eyes drifted to Jeaule and Cyric, so comfortable with each other. They just sat over there, smiling and talking amiably while Cyric rubbed at his sore leg. Neither had a care in the world and certainly could care less that she's slept with Eireach. So damn it…why couldn't she calm down?

Why was so getting so damned worked up over every little thing? Was it illegal for her to like and sleep with a man that she found attractive and cared for?

'But do you really…?' a voice in the back of her mind whispered. She'd have brushed it off as another of her odd hang ups, but the voice wasn't entirely her own and had her on edge the moment she'd heard it.

"I was right." Jareth's haughtily pleased tone stirred her sluggishly from her disturbing thoughts.

Cyric stood, shakily, but with a smile on his face a mile wide, "So how's the little princess doing?" Sorsha laughed along with the rest of her friends when Jareth used his magic to sweep Cyric's legs from underneath him. "Prince, prince! I give, my ass can't take this much longer."

"Oh I'm so happy for you both." Jeaule wrapped Sarah up in her arms. "We have to celebrate!" Sarah pulled back from her, confused.

"All of you are still training today aren't you?" she asked Sorsha.

"Training…?" Sorsha asked vaguely, still not entirely free of the whispered words.

Sarah smiled, "I don't want it to be ruined just because His Royal High and Mighty was right." Her smile quirked slightly, but devilishly. "For once." Sorsha tried valiantly to focus on the situation in hand, but she couldn't shake the disquiet she'd felt.

"Ah, see what love has done to her," Jareth teased as they left the Healers quarters, companionably draping an arm over her shoulders. "It's addled her brain."

"Love…?" was all she was able to come up with. Had he really just said those words? She hadn't even admitted anything to herself…and likely wouldn't for a time. Sorsha could only stand there, dumbfounded, as her friends chuckled, merely thinking her embarrassed.

Jareth's hand was nudged from her shoulders when Eireach came to her rescue…realizing more than embarrassment held her tongue, "Stop teasing her Jareth. If you frighten her off I think I shall be quite vexed." Had he meant to put on that oh so regal…nobleman tone? It had probably merely been playful.

'He will trap you,' that voice said again. 'You will become an adornment to him and no more.'

"What?" Sorsha realized she'd said that out loud when everyone stopped to look at her, Sarah placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What…what, Sorsha?"

"Nothing." Damn it, she thought…should have come up with something. Even a stupid lie would have kept her from the looks she was getting now. Confusion laced with just a hint of worry…she didn't want to deal with this right now. Before anyone could ask her if she was okay, she headed them off, "I'm fine. I think I'm going to push training back just a few hours today." Surprise rippled over their faces. Okay, that probably wasn't the best course of action either, but damn it, she needed some time to think about what was going on inside of her.

After a moments silence, she heard Cyric quip, "I guess she's tired." Jeaule promptly elbowed him in the stomach.

Eireach rubbed her shoulder, "Seriously…stop guys," Eireach teased. "I like this one. I swear you two are worse than real brothers sometimes." Sorsha tried, really tried to laugh it off. She desperately wanted that calm and peace that Jeaule and Cyric had, wanted that ease and laughter that always swirled around Jareth and Sarah. She looked up at Eireach and wondered why couldn't they have something akin to that?

What would they be like if she'd just stop doubting every little thing? Flashes of days spent training, arguing playfully, wrestling playfully, loving passionately…and strangely even visions of him reading to her by a fire. All of that, she thought with a secret smile, all of that could be hers if she'd just shut the hell up and go with the flow.

Perhaps Cyric was right, maybe she was just tired. Gods knew she had been up most of the night. Perhaps all she needed to clear her mind was a nice nap? Yes, she thought, a nice nap to get her out of the strange funk she'd woken up in.

When they passed the hallway to her rooms, she excused herself with a smile and headed towards her room…and her bed. When Eireach called out behind her, she bit her lip…she really didn't want to explain anything to him right now. She put on a little smile and turned to him as he pulled her hand to his lips.

"I know something's up, but you're not pulling away from me, so I assume you'll tell me when you're ready." She couldn't keep the shock from her face and was rewarded for it with one of his heart clenching smiles. "Didn't think I'd know that did you?" His thumb ran lightly over the back of her hand in slow, soothing strokes. "No matter, I hope to keep surprising you…it'll keep you on your toes."

This time her smile was genuine, "The day you stop shocking me, nobleman, is the day I can't handle a sword anymore."

He chuckled, his thumb still moving in those soothing arcs, "Just wanted to let you know that I'm going off with the boys to celebrate the coming of another man."

"Like that needs to be celebrated."

"They weren't too hard on you were they?"

She pursed her lips in a smile, "No more than I figured they would when they found out."

"Good…I'd hate to battle for your honor against Jareth." He grimaced. "He plays dirty." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "But Cyric…I think I could take Cyric easily." She laughed, unable to stop herself.

"I think you're right." She looked down the hall to where the other's waited for Eireach. "He's always more worried about his hair than you are." As if on cue, Cyric ran a hand through his chocolate locks. "I've always wanted to take a whack at that pony tail he keeps it in during training," she joked. "Just to see what he would do."

"You should try it later when we go to training. I, for one, think it would be vastly amusing." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. How had he known that she didn't want to be kissed right now? He could have very easily kissed her lips, she wouldn't have stopped him. But as his lips brushed lightly over her cheek, she realized the man had shocked her again. "I'd say your sword skills are safe."

She blushed as he seemed to read her mind, "I suppose they are." His thumb gave one more sweep over her hand before he stepped back.

"Talk to you later," he said as he walked away from her. She wasn't dumb enough to miss the hidden 'hope you talk to ME later' in his words. So he was a patient man as well…? It seemed her sword skills were indeed safe.

**Damien** stormed into his rooms, tired of knowing exactly where he would find the demon. He was tired, sick and tired of her running his life. Sick and tired of eating healthy foods that gagged in his throat as he tried to swallow them down. He was sick and tired of dressing in the toned down clothing she'd begun insisting on him.

Beige…!? Did she really expect him to wear boring old beige? He looked down at the drab tunic that was cut to fit him, what she called 'the right way'. What did she know about his right way? She had no idea what he liked and she obviously didn't CARE what he thought. He was tired of it.

"Are you actually doing anything or are you just getting comfortable in my castle…and my power?" Her laughter trickled down his spine like poisoned sweetness.

"Your POWER?" Her lithe body, as snakelike as always, swayed as she walked to him. "You have no power that I don't give you anymore." He didn't like the sound of that, but there was no way this demon could steal the power of his throne. She could wish it, but it wasn't hers.

"I want to know if you're actually going to focus on what you promised me instead of an old bit of yourself within this silly girl."

She turned to him, a cold calculation in her eyes, "If you wish me to complete my tasks, you will not belittle the importance of even the smallest bit of me." It was the quiet fire in her eyes that silenced his retort.

"Then were you able to control her?" He asked, nearing desperation, he needed something to go right for him. "Were you able to break through to the bit of you within the girl?" Rage twisted the normally beautiful face.

"I admit that I was unable to take hold of the bit of my soul imprisoned within the little general." Kindraa paced over to the fireplace to lose herself, as always, within the twisting flames. "But she did what I wanted her to anyways. She slept with the nobleman and that will rip at her soul when all the lessons her father drilled into her are brought up." Damien was growing impatient with her riddled answers.

"I thought she'd worked herself out of those brain-washings. If she slept with him then she obviously does care about him."

"Ah…but she still wonders if I had a hold on her. She's not sure yet if the decision was wholly hers."

"But it was."

Kindraa sauntered to him, trailing one of those unnerving fingers down his cheek, "Ah…but she doesn't know that." The deviousness of the plan struck a chord in his black little heart and his smile spread. "I see you're pleased."

"You're going to trick her into thinking that she really doesn't care for that cretin who would have sat on my throne…it's delightful." She circled him, much like a predator circles its prey, but he was too delighted with her scheme to notice.

"But won't that upset Morrigan…I thought she told you not to touch the girl?" He asked, a small crack appearing in his happiness. "You raged about it for hours." Still she circled, her fingers trailing, only a phantom of a touch over him.

"She told me not to touch her…and I won't. I'm not going to control her, won't even try. All I'm going to do is talk to her." He heard the wicked smile stretch over her face, "That's well within Morrigan's rules and it will burn her when she realizes she can do nothing about it because I've broken no rule." The grin returned to his face. She'd thought of everything. It would all happen now, just as he'd wanted. "Then I've pleased you?" Why had he been so mad at her when he walked in? He couldn't remember, but he knew now that he was enormously pleased with her.

"I'll still get all you promised me?" His voice was small, almost child-like, but he didn't notice. All he could see was a vision of the day Cyric died at his feet and Jeaule bowed before him, subservient and meek.

Oh…he'd take her to wife quicker than she could mourn the loss of the miserable filth that was Cyric. She'd smiled at him during the feast he'd thrown, hadn't she? He hadn't imagined that. She'd spoken with him when others had turned their head. She would be happy to wed a man like him…so much more powerful than that fool she'd ended up with.

Yes, he thought delightedly, he would have the war that Kindraa promised him. It would be a grand, bloody war that would end in the death of the life-long thorn in his side. Just as long as none of the blood was on his sword…hah…like he owned or even knew how to use a sword…then he wouldn't care.

It didn't occur to him that he hadn't wanted the war, merely the death of Cyric. It didn't occur to him that he would still have to answer to the gods once all came to fruition. Stranger still…he didn't notice the evil smirk on the face of the demon next to him.

**Sorsha** was nearly asleep when her door creaked open and she heard someone enter. So he hadn't really figured out that she'd needed some time to think? With an inner groan, she rolled over, shoving the pillow over her head in a small tantrum.

"Eireach, I thought you were…" she cut off when she heard a small, 'Oh!' She ripped the pillow from over her head and spotted a startled Kessy.

"I'm so sorry, I thought you'd be on the training field right now. This is when I normally come and clean your…I'm sorry," she stammered, clutching the clean towels to her chest.

"No, no," Sorsha said wearily, sleep a distant hope now. "Do what you need to. It's okay. Training was pushed back a few hours is all."

Concern washed over Kessy's face, "Oh, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I was just a little tired is all." Since all hope for a nap was gone, Sorsha rose from the bed to let Kessy change the sheets. She hated being waited on like this. She'd always taken care of herself, but it was something she'd just had to get used to since moving into the castle.

Kessy brightened as she changed out the sheets, "Oh last night was magnificent wasn't it?" Sorsha felt herself flush and was thankful that Kessy's attention was on her sheets and not her face.

"Yes, I suppose." She didn't know what to do with the girl. Kessy was usually so quiet that this bit of conversation put Sorsha on edge…what was she supposed to say to the girl?

"The ball was magnificent and beautiful!"

"Yea," Sorsha couldn't help, but remember the encounter with her mother. A sorrow welled inside her, not for the loss of her mother, but that it had happened in such a way. At least now she knew that she was better off without the waif of a woman that reminded her far too much of the dainty little blonde straightening her bed.

When Kessy looked up to her, her face fell, "Oh my, I forgot." She clapped her hands to her mouth. "I hardly ever talk and when I do, I seem to all but shove my foot in my mouth."

"Don't worry about it. I think it was worse for her than it was for me."

But Kessy dropped her eyes, obviously embarrassed for forgetting what had happened the night before, "I'm sorry, really."

"Me too, but really…don't worry about it."

"I'll just…finish up in here and be on my way," she said, picking the towels back up. Sorsha groaned on the inside. The girl was just too much sometimes.

"Oh…and there's nothing to clean up in the bathroom." She regretted it the moment she said the words.

Kessy blinked, confused, "No towels from this morning's bath?" With another inward groan and a mental slap to herself, Sorsha shook her head. Was everyone going to have to know within the course of the day? "Oh…oh!" Kessy said as the light bulb turned on. "That's why you thought I was Lord Tur," she whispered, a flush of jealousy lit over pale cheeks for a mere instant.

Sorsha didn't know what to say, she was so intrigued by the jealousy she'd seen flit over Kessy's face. For an instant the girl had seemed like an entirely different person.

"I'll just go now if there's nothing else you need." Sorsha was pulled out of her thoughts with a start and was met with the normal, mousey Kessy as always.

"No that's okay…thanks," she said awkwardly. Kessy, to her horror, curtseyed as always before she left. Sorsha let out a steady huff of air, it looked like this was going to be a LONG day.

**Eireach** was clashing a sword with Cyric when Sorsha crossed the training field. She still looked tired and if possible, even more worn out. Oh yes, there was something nagging her that went deeper than what had happened between them last night, but he hadn't lied when he said he was going to wait till she was ready to talk about that.

He let her work off whatever was eating at her until the last of the soldiers drifted off the field. Eireach volunteered to help clean the weapons to only a few sniggers, mostly from Jareth and Cyric as they trotted off the field. With an armful of weapons, Eireach followed Sorsha to the large shed where they were all stored behind the stands.

"Did you really have to volunteer to help me?" she asked with smiling strain in her voice.

"Oh yes," he said sarcastically. "They ALL know that we did it now because I volunteered to help you clean weapons." He prodded her with the blunt tip of a training sword. "Bet they all think you're cleaning MY weapon now."

Sorsha dropped her head into her hands and groaned, "Oh gods." Her laughter echoed off the bare walls of the shed and pulled at the corners of his lips. When she looked back up at him, there was a twinkle in her eyes. "Well it doesn't help when you tackle and all but make out with me in the middle of training."

His fingers pulled the pins from the loose bun at the back of her head, "I couldn't help it. When I saw your hair all loose back here, it made me remember what it felt like in my hands." He smiled at her, "And when I thought of that…I had some very naughty thoughts and I had to kiss you." He loved teasing her this way, it was refreshing to see her flushed and embarrassed.

"I dunno, I think it was just an attempt to cover up your slacking technique today."

He lifted the polishing rag from the sword and shook it at her, "Now, now…you hit below the belt down." Her delighted laughter rang out again.

"You have to admit, you were a little distracted today."

"I think I had a right to be," he teased. "With flashes of you fighting me naked…" he wiped his forehead. "…Gods, it's amazing I was able to function at all."

Sorsha smacked him on the arm with the flat of a blade before dropping it in the clean pile before him. It was nice to see that she was comfortable around him again, but he couldn't help but wonder if she would only ever be comfortable when they were alone. Around their friends, she fell into herself…but he had to admit that probably had a lot to do with Jareth and Cyric being asses.

"Can we please talk about something other than me naked?"

"But it's such a lovely conversation." Her bland look had him laughing and holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay…I did actually want to give you something."

Her brow quirked, "Oh really?" He nodded and conjured up his gift.

"I have a book for you to read." Again she laughed, rolling her eyes amiably.

"I'm not really a big book reader," she said, brandishing a sword.

"You KNOW how to read right?" he asked with a smile that earned him another smack.

"Of COURSE I know how to read!"

"Well then, read it," he said, wagging the book at her. Her face twisted as she read the title.

"Pride and Prejudice?" she said, her lip curling. "That sounds haughty. That's sad, I was just starting to think there was more to you than pushy nobility."

He smiled at her, a slow quirk of lips as he wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek, "Just when I was starting to think there was more to YOU thank war and swords."

She pouted, something he decided at that moment made her even more kissable, "Touché." His smile spread and her eyes rolled again. "Why do you think I'd even like that silly nobleperson book?" He had a secret little smile as he thought of the book's heroine.

"I just think that you would relate to the main character." Her lips pursed even further.

"Oh give me the damn book," she sighed, grabbing the book from his hand before prodding him in the chest with it. "This just means you have extra practices with me."

He tried to keep a straight face as he went back to cleaning, "As long as you clean my sword when we're done." He didn't look over, but the clash of the sword on the floor and the sound of her laughter was reward enough.

**Damien** nearly jumped right out of his stupid beige tunic when a crazed woman crashed into his throne room after dinner. He was already in an irritable mood because of the vegetable soup he'd been served and the disgustingly healthy tartlet he'd been given as a sorry excuse for a dessert. All in all, he was in NO mood to deal with some random, psychopathic woman who looked ready to kill.

He was about to gesture for his guards to stop the woman when she lifted a pale, perfect finger at the woman to his left, "YOU!" He turned his gaze to Kindraa, who was visibly seething with anger. "You said you were going to give him to me!" the frightening blonde shouted at the demon.

Kindraa hissed and all noise in the room ceased, men and women alike retreating from the room, "What in the nine hells are you doing here you FOOLISH girl?"

Blue eyes he could see when she was still halfway across the room flashed, "You said he would be mine! You said you would give him to me the way Irelen got Isriam!"

Damien could see Kindraa trying to get a grip on her temper. It wasn't something that he was used to seeing her doing so it threw him. As the girl approached them, he motioned his guards to stop her, but allowed her to continue.

"Go back to the castle, now…" Kindraa said, her voice laced with a chilling warning. "If they find you missing they'll start to suspect you." She stood from the small throne she'd commissioned for herself. Damien was suddenly hit by just how much authority she commanded here, she was an imposing figure as she stood over the raging blonde. "You've done SO well so far, don't mess it up now because your panties are in a knot."

"My panties are just fine thank you very much," the blonde spit. Damien could see the piece of Kindraa within her now, for this surely must be Kindraa's informant. Those blue eyes that he'd spotted from across the room were ringed with red. "But you promised me something that has now slipped through my fingers and now I want answers!"

"I promised you nothing," Kindraa answered, her smile small and her eyes triumphant.

"YOU PROMISED ME EVERYTHING!"

"I said you would get all that I gave Irelen and YOU told ME that you wanted Lord Tur." The blonde faltered at the bottom of the steps.

"You just said it…you said that I would get all that Irelen did…and she got ISRIAM!"

That triumphant smirk spread on Kindraa's face, "I didn't give her Isriam." The blonde's face fell, defeat settling in. "She broke her word with me and TOOK Isriam." The blonde fired up again, her eyes an unsettling combination of fire and ice.

"You bitch…." Damien felt like he was in the middle of a very deadly battle of the wills. The last place he wanted to be was sitting in the same room with these two smoldering women. He would rather eat more of that disgusting vegetable soup than stay here.

"I will give him to you though," Kindraa said, harnessing her temper in like he'd never seen her do before.

"HOW if he's screwing Sorsha!?"

"I don't plan for that girl to live past this war." A smile lit those blue eyes that had every hair on Damien's body standing on end. There was a vicious little soul hidden behind that delicate body and sweet looks.

"Good."

Kindraa sat back down in her throne and waved a dismissing hand at the blonde, "Now leave Kessandra."

**(A/N: I'm sure just about everyone knew that Kessy was the spy, but whatever. LOL I had fun writing this. I wanted to say that I'm very sorry it took so long to get a new chapter out. I had my sister from out of town come to stay with me one week and then I had SERIOUS cleaning to do the next week because I had a lot of family that came in for two flippin weeks. BUT…I feel really bad and I hope that this chapter made up for the slip in my updates! Those who read and reviewed last chapter were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, EternalEyes, Kerichi, notwritten, Princess of the Fae, roguegambit, Setsuna-Chan22 and The Banshee's Tears.**

**Thanks guys and I love you!)**


	20. Uncovering a Spy

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story. **

**Kessy** leaned irritably against the railing, her chin resting disgustedly on her balled fist as she watched the training session. To anyone else, she would look her normal mousey self, perhaps bored out of her mind, but in all the months she'd been here, she'd never been looked at twice. That had been the way she'd wanted it…the way she'd planned it. It wasn't a terribly difficult role to play either.

The mask she wore for all these fools was one she'd lived her entire life with. Before Kindraa had come to her, offering her the world, she'd been exactly what she'd been since coming to this castle. Of course, the slice of a demonic soul within her changed her thoughts, her actions…but it was so vibrant, so astonishing as times. Kessy knew that she'd never willingly go back to being the magically deficient country bumpkin she'd been before Kindraa.

The demon had offered her the world to get her out of that cave once and for all. Had offered her the man she stared at now, if not at first, but Kessy had talked her into that one. Eireach Tur, she'd wanted him since she was a child, back when his father had still been King. The day that the prince had come to review the farm, she'd fallen for him, but as a lowly, poor, useless farmer's daughter…she hadn't a chance to touch him.

Even now, in her assumed role of a humble maid, she was out of reach of his nobleman status, but not for too much longer. Or at least she hoped not. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take watching those two getting closer and closer. It was no longer a question in her mind that the two were in love, but while that might have touched a chord with the farmer's daughter, it didn't even cause Kessy to bat a lash at her plans.

She'd endured watching them quite long enough as far as she was concerned. Now as winter began to melt away and Jareth's annoyingly sweet mother was finally leaving to go back to the Goblin Kingdom, Kessy looked forward to the winter truce coming to an end. Kindraa had promised a great battle soon, had promised blood, had promised Eireach's safety.

All Kessy wanted, and desperately wanted, was for something to happen to Sorsha. It would be so much easier if the woman was simply dead, wouldn't it? She could comfort Eireach, get into his confidence. She might not even need Kindraa if that happened. She could earn Eireach herself the way Irelen had gotten Isriam to fall in love with her. But then…why wait for a battle…?

Couldn't she do something about that herself? She was a maid, a trusted maid at that. Couldn't she put something in the bitch's food? Couldn't she find a way to rid herself of the nuisance? Of course she could. Kessy was so caught up in her emotions, her anger and frustration swirling together with the wicked amusement at the thoughts of killing the woman who laughed and hugged Eireach as she watched on that she didn't feel her meager magic slip from her.

It wasn't until she heard the grieved shouts and screams that she even realized what she'd done. Sorsha lay on the ground, a gaping wound in her side. With a quick curse, Kessy masked her magic. She put back on her frightened little mouse mask and scampered out onto the field, cursing the fact that she'd have to treat the woman she wanted to kill.

**Pain** had lanced through her right hip like a white hot sword and Sorsha's world had gone black. The magic that had sliced through her was foreign and enraged. During her stay in the bleak darkness, she took a moment to do as her father had taught her. It had been one of his better lessons and one that had served her well in the past.

"Never let an enemy's attack go unanalyzed," she heard her father say through a thick fog. "Even the shortest, quickest attacks can be captured with your own magic." The fog parted and she could see herself as she had been, a young Fae with a white scar along her jaw line.

"How do I capture it?" She'd expected her father to smack her for the simpleton question, but he didn't. He'd given her something he rarely did, a smile. It had been one of the rare times that he'd been sober and somewhat fatherly.

"That's my girl, always starving for more." He'd been right partially. She found most of this fascinating, but his judgmental methods were the only thing that kept the lessons from being pleasurable. Sorsha watched on as Kael ruffled her hair and knelt down in front of her. "I'll tell you how to do it, baby girl." It had always made her uncomfortable when he'd been kind to her, it was such a strange and alien thing to hear coming from lips that, more often than not, sought cruelty. "Any time you're fighting, be it training or actual battle…you keep a blanket of your magic around you."

"Okay," she'd said, forcing a thin layer of magic around herself for her father's approval.

"You can never let that guard down, because even in practice…the enemy could attack," Kael instructed as the fog closed over the scene again and even the fog dissolved. For the first time in a long time, she was grateful for something her father had taught her.

"It was the spy," she muttered when her eyes opened and Eireach's worried face hung over her. "I must have pissed her off pretty badly," she said, finding a string of her humor. And she knew it was a woman, knew it from the magic that was still swirling, mixed with her own in that thin wrap of magic.

"Shh, shh," he hushed. Sorsha was sure he hadn't heard her, he was gesturing to someone behind him. "I don't know what happened," Eireach said as he slipped to her side, taking her hand. She must have lost a decent amount of blood in the few seconds she'd been out because even the feel of his fingers in her hand seemed distant. For the first time in her long life, she was scared. Scared she wasn't going to make it, scared she was going to lose all that she'd gained since she'd decided to come here, scared she was going to lose Eireach.

She'd JUST found herself comfortable with him in all situations. He was so right for her, so right. How could fate be so cruel as to take him from her now? And how strange that she thought of it that way? Wouldn't it be fate taking her from him…? Why did it matter? Or was this just the way the mind thought when it was dying.

Oh gods, please don't let me be dying.

"Sorsha, stay with us," she heard Kessy's voice and the fact that she still had the life in her to groan gave her some hope. "Open your eyes Sorsha." She did as the silly little mouse asked and when her eyes rested on the thick blonde curls and quiet blue eyes something stirred within her.

Why hadn't she seen the girl lately? Sorsha didn't notice her friends all hanging over her, didn't hear their questions, didn't see Jeaule at her side, stopping the flow of blood with her amateur healing skills as she screamed for Healer Jayachin. Her attention was centered on Kessy, the sun backlighting her and making her look all more the angel she passed herself off as.

Where had the girl been since that embarrassing morning after Sorsha had slept with Eireach for the first time? That had been in the height of winter and they were now on the cusp of spring. It had never occurred to Sorsha that the girl had made herself scarce and that in and of itself was off putting to her. Sorsha prided herself on being aware and she'd let this girl fly right under her radar.

Perhaps Kessy had just been avoiding her because she was jealous. Sorsha had seen enough that last time they'd spoken to know that Kessy had a crush on Eireach, so maybe that was why she'd been so…GODS THAT HURT.

Sorsha almost passed out again as Kessy's hands dressed the wound. Quick hands staunched the blood flow, but Sorsha noticed that Kessy was making a concentrated effort not to touch her skin to Sorsha's. She searched the faces of her friends, but they were all staring at her, not Kessy's work. None of them noticed Kessy's odd behavior.

"I'm here," she heard Healer Jayachin's voice, but her eyes were still on Kessy. Was there more to this girl? More to her than the sad little maid? When Healer Jayachin knelt beside her, she startled Kessy and her fingers slipped, brushing over Sorsha's skin and sending a sickness through her. "You're going to be okay." Her friends smiled, relieved at Healer Jayachin's words, but Sorsha wasn't listening.

She was forcing herself to remain calm. It would do nothing to let Kessy know that her cover was blown. The magic Sorsha felt in their brief contact made the magic cover around herself scream. The girl had tried to mask her magic, but it had been done poorly, sloppily. Kessy was the spy, Kessy was the one who'd tried to kill her. Kessy…sweet, unsuspecting little Kessy.

Bitch, Sorsha thought violently when Healer Jayachin wrapped her up.

"This will take a while to heal since it was caused by magic," Healer Jayachin said calmly. Her friends looked startled.

"Magic?" The boys asked as one, all with the same shock and outrage blended into one.

"Kessy take these and clean them," Healer Jayachin told the girl, handing her the bloodied rags. Sorsha was about to stop her when she silenced herself. Kindraa already had her blood, if the little actress gave the bloodied rags to her, it would make no difference at this point. "Okay, let's sit her up."

"She'll be okay?" Sorsha wanted to rub her hand over Eireach's cheek for his soft tone.

"How many times do I have to get injured before you'll learn I'm tough enough to handle anything?" His face relaxed as he looked at her, he even managed a little smile. "Just get me away from all these gawking eyes." He offered an arm and she gladly leaned on him. That was just one of the wonders of how their relationship had developed her trust and need of him.

"Let's get you out of here before someone decides to give you a matching hole on the other side," Jareth said on nearly a growl.

"Don't worry about it, she's gone."

"What's that?" Eireach asked and they all stopped, turned to her, five sets of eyes intent on her next words.

"I said she's not here anymore."

"Who's not?" Sarah asked, putting a hand under Sorsha's elbow.

"I know who hurt me, it was the spy."

Jareth's eyes fired and the other two boys weren't far behind, "Who is it?" They all asked in varying tones, but all as dangerous as the next.

"Kessy," she answered simply. The others all looked a little unsure of her thought, their tensed and battle ready stances relaxing with the stunned shock of her answer.

"It couldn't be her, she helped you. You were probably just confused from the injury," Cyric said, not looking too convinced.

"You were all ready to believe me five seconds ago. Why not now?"

Jeaule looked so unsure, "Because…I mean…Kessy?"

"Why not Kessy?" When their faces remained unconvinced, Sorsha sighed. She didn't feel up to explaining all her father taught her. She definitely wasn't up to convincing them all that she wasn't simply blowing smoke up their asses. When she felt better, she'd tackle it, but she'd make sure they kept their eyes open at least. "I'll explain this all later, but I'm not lying to you. It's her." Sorsha saw that Sarah might have been the most on her side of her friends. "Just promise me that you'll watch her without giving her reason to worry that you're watching." They all looked between each other, but promised to do so. "Okay, we'll talk later then." On that, she leaned herself on Eireach and thanked the gods for a strong man as he lifted her up and took her to his room.

Kessy wasn't going anywhere. She had no reason to fear that Sorsha knew who she was now and Sorsha was sure that the girl would be extra careful now that she'd had her little temper tantrum. For one blessed afternoon, Sorsha wasn't going to worry about it.

**Eireach** seemed to be having a quiet feud with Sorsha. No words had been spoken, but he knew without a doubt that he was in trouble. He'd brought her to his room…something that had been slowly turning into 'their' room as the weeks rolled by. She had some of her training weapons here, clothes and all the other accoutrement that came with a woman as eclectic as his Sorsha. They were settling into something together and damned if he had anything bad to say about it.

But she was pouting.

It wasn't attributed to the large gouge Kes…someone had taken out of her side. It was because of that wave of thinking right there. He simply couldn't believe that Kessy was the spy. He figured that Sorsha was merely thinking so because she'd been injured and Kessy was the first to tend to her in the hazy state of pain Sorsha had been in. Add to that the fact that Sorsha already didn't have a strong taste for the girl, but then again…most of them didn't.

She was meek, timid and rather annoying, but they'd never had reason to think that she was a spy. There were plenty of others that they'd had their eyes on over the past months, but Kessy had never ever been one of them. It was true, he doubted his wounded and now pouting lover…and boy did that piss her off.

"Do you know me to be flighty?" she asked with a bite.

He rested himself on the edge of the bed, adjusted the sheets, "No."

Her eyes were carefully aimed daggers, "Have I ever lied because of some womanly hormones obstructing my better judgement?"

He sighed, "No." She was right. But then why the lingering doubt?

"I felt her." Sorsha had mumbled it far under her breath, but Eireach hadn't missed it. It sent a shiver down his spine and had a memory of talking with Morrigan.

"_Wasn't it just a bit suspicious?" He had asked after a moment of awkward silence. Cyric and Jeaule had frowned, sharing a look that clearly had told the goddess sitting on the couch across from him that he'd suspected Sorsha all along. "I mean, while Morrigan was talking…it was like she was guilty." Morrigan had looked so upset with him, but it hadn't stopped him. "Maybe she's got a bit of Kindraa in her," he'd muttered quieter than he thought anyone could hear, but Morrigan was a goddess after all._

"_She does." His stomach had dropped at Morrigan's words, he remembered that clearly. "It was her mother that was possessed by Kindraa all those years ago. Sorsha was conceived while her mother was possessed, so a bit of Kindraa has always been inside her and always will be." Morrigan had sighed, obviously debating how much she should tell them. "I needed to tell you what Kindraa was capable of and in turn I reminded Sorsha of her past, one that wasn't kind to her at all." That was when the guilt had started to creep in, cold and unwanted. "Rest assured that she is of no harm to you, I protected her from that part of herself when she was but a baby."_

Eireach knew that Sorsha had a piece of Kindraa in her, but this was the first time since way back then that he'd even thought of it. In turn, he couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't told him herself by now. Was she hiding it from him or was she simply so ashamed of it that she refused to tell even him. He was betting on a fair share of both, but figured this was about the time for her to come clean.

"How do you KNOW?" he asked cautiously, pushing a stray hair from her forehead. She'd loosened the bun at the back of her head since they'd been together. He figured it to be a symbolic gesture of her loosening up around him, but that was ego talking.

She paused, a short moment, but a telling one, "I just do." He leaned back against the headboard with his hands behind his head, a disdainful smirk on his lips.

"That's a very womanly answer."

"That's a very nobleman retort," she snipped back.

"Yes, but when it's called for…"

Arms folded over her chest, "Ditto."

Eireach bit back the sigh, "Why would a womanly, hormone induced answer be called for here?" He paused long enough to turn his face to hers, to search it for a sign that she was going to tell him. He found nerves. "I only want to know why you're so sure you're right."

Her teeth scraped worriedly over her bottom lip as she contemplated. He could all but hear the wheels turning in her head. Tell him the truth? The partial truth? He hoped to the gods she trusted and loved him enough for the first.

"I never wanted to have to tell you this." She sounded ashamed, deeply and mortally ashamed. He gathered her up in his arms, knowing that this would be hard for her, but touched to the depths of his soul that she was about to entrust him with the truth.

With a shaking voice, she told him much the same story that Morrigan had already shed light on, but with more detail than he cared to imagine his love going through.

"When I was a child, the day my mother left, Morrigan came to my father and me." Sorsha took a bracing breath. "She wanted to take me, to raise me as a great leader, to raise me as her surrogate daughter." His eyes went wide with wonder at this.

"She was going to raise you as her own?" Sorsha nodded sadly.

"I had lost my mother, but as you saw from her appearance at the ball…that was no great loss." Her teeth began to worry her lip again, "I had lost my mother, but Morrigan wanted to give me a new one, herself. Of course, my father would have none of it."

"Bastard."

Sorsha nodded slowly, "He didn't want me any more than my mother had, but he was going to keep me out of spite. Simply because Morrigan wanted me. He blamed her for what happened between himself and my mother, blamed her for Irelen leaving him."

"Was it her fault?" Sorsha looked up at him as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"No, no…not really." He wanted to question further, but gave her the time to say it. "It was Kindraa. She controlled my mother and made her join with Kael, made her conceive me. I was never more than a pawn that Kindraa wanted."

"Wait, wait." Sorsha was nodding slowly, as if she'd expected this. "Kindraa WANTED you?"

Sorsha's eyes were deep and sad…so sad, "She did back then. Kindraa had wanted someone born of her own soul. She figured I would be some strange hybrid of demon and Fae that would help her garner the power that she wanted."

"But you're not."

The first smile since before her injury that afternoon played over her lips, "Very observant." Her smirk faltered as she continued, "I might have been though, if it hadn't been for Morrigan. This was Kindraa's great wrong-doing, Morrigan was legendarily pissed off at the gall it took for the demon to do something like that." She shrugged slightly, "So she protected me, blocked off the bit of demon in me and was around all the time when I was a baby."

"She was already like a mother to you when your father took you from her." It wasn't a question for he could see the truth in her eyes already.

"She was, I loved her like no other…and love her still."

"Then she'll be there for you," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he nestled closer to her. "So tell me, why was Kindraa trying to kill you when the battles were raging?" He felt Sorsha wince in his arms. "You were a main target for her."

"She wasn't trying to kill me."

"But-"

"She stopped the last battle once a sword had bloodied my arm."

He huffed and let his head drop back against the headboard with a light thud, "Well what the hell good would that do her?" When Sorsha sighed beside him, his heart clenched. "I have a feeling this story isn't quite finished."

"I wish it were, I think it might be…but you have a right to know." Again she looked ashamed, "You had a right to know before we started this." Something indescribable gripped like a vise around his heart.

"What…?" he asked, dreading the answer. She turned to him, only a slight wince as her hip twisted.

"I want to start out by saying she never bothered me, so I have no doubt that I love you and that what we have between us is as real as you sitting beside me." The vise loosened, but didn't quite release its hold.

"Okay…" he answered warily. She told him how Morrigan had warned her of the blood magic that Kindraa could perform with the sample of Sorsha's blood she'd acquired. "So she can control you?"

"I don't think so, or she would have already. Morrigan hasn't had any fears since she warned me. I don't think she was able to do what she wanted to with my blood." Eireach sincerely hoped not because if she did…he'd be out demon hunting.

**Damien** sat in the corner of his room, much like a scolded puppy as Kindraa raged by the communication orb. She looked like a living flame, her clothes burned from her, her body almost indistinguishable from the flame consuming her. The only constant, the only thing that remained were those terrible red eyes. He could tell that she retained the form of the woman underneath the flames, but there was something hideous about the face that lay hidden beneath the fire.

Something that looked far more demonic than the Kindraa who'd strutted his halls.

"How could you be some damnably STUPID as to let your temper fly like that!?" She screamed at the orb hovering near her head. Kindraa sounded ready to kill and most likely was. Since her informant had shown up at the castle at the height of winter, she'd steadily been taking his powers from him.

She told him power over the troops was for better control of the armies she was leading for him, so he'd handed that over without a bat of his eyes. He cared little for the depravity of war and battle, he'd told himself. But she'd warped his soldiers into something dark, something frightening that he was glad he would never have to face in battle.

She'd told him that control over the servants and maids would make it easier for her to control possible spies…so he'd handed that over to her as well. He didn't care much for matters of the running of the castle anyways he'd told himself. Why not hand it over to her so she could keep watch for possible spies?

She'd told him many things and he'd done them, listened to her and explained them away until he discovered he'd lost thirty pounds and had all but given her a crown. He didn't like this new form she'd carved of him. He was still large, but the pleasant plumpness that he'd loved was gone. All color had been drained from his world, all but the drab and boring colors of the earth.

Where had his voice gone? He wondered? With a cringe at Kindraa's cry of outrage, he realized he'd lost far more than his voice to the creature in his room.

"I masked my magic," the blonde's irritated voice drifted from the orb and seemed to echo in the room. "Don't worry about it."

Kindraa stopped pacing and stood before the orb for a moment, dumbfounded and enraged by the answer, "Don't worry…?" she asked with sugar coated venom. "Don't WORRY!?" The room shook with her fury and Damien tried desperately to push himself further into the corner. He couldn't take this any longer. It wasn't in him to live in fear every minute of the day. "I could care LESS about you right now!" The fire cooled slightly around Kindraa and Damien knew she was thinking of something she found delightfully wicked. "I'm half tempted to call my soul back."

Damien could see the girl in the communication orb grab her chest as if she would hold the demon spirit within herself, "NO!!" It was a desperate and pathetic plea to which Kindraa all but purred with contentment to hear.

"That's right…you need me." Blue eyes flared in the communication orb, but cupid's bow lips stayed smartly shut. "Winter is almost over…it looks like I'll have to pay our little general a visit." Red eyes shifted irritably to the orb, "I can't trust YOU with anything."

With an irritated motion of what Damien could only assume at this point was a hand, the orb vanished. Kindraa shouted, but it sounded more like an Aboveground lion…but deeper and far more frightening. Truly that was the demon within her, outraged at her spy's incompetence. But the demon seemed to have forgot he was in the room, for she stormed out without a glance to him.

He heard the shocked cry and dying screams of a maid in the hallway. Poor thing had been in the wrong place at the worst time and had taken the brunt of Kindraa's anger. With a distinct snap of something vital within himself, Damien curled up where he sat.

Damien wrapped his arms around his legs and rocked gently, he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't do this anymore. He repeated this, a quiet mantra in his head until the sunlight flickered out.

**(A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I know I did. I have to give a GIGANTIC shout out to darklady26, without whom this chapter might not have reached you all today. I had a DEADLY case of writers block and was beating my head against the keyboard before I called her. LOL Those who read and reviewed last weeks chapter, giving me a reason to push hard for this one were:**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, notwritted, phantome101 and roguegambit**

**Thanks guys, LOVE YA!)**


	21. Gutsy Move

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story.**

* * *

**Sorsha** cautiously checked around the corner before she dared venture into the vulnerable openness of the hallway. Since her injury two weeks ago, it had become something of a cat and mouse game between herself and Kessy. The girl seemed dedicated to never letting Sorsha from her sight when she was out of her room. If she went to the training field…there was Kessy. If she went to the dining hall…there was Kessy. If she walked through the halls, inevitably, Kessy found her.

She was starting to fear that she'd wake up and Kessy would be there, hovering. Or the sneaky spy would creep in while she was bathing…or something. It was simply impossible to relax anymore. The first week had admittedly been the worst because of being bed ridden thanks to the gouge of flesh Kessy had taken from her. It had been during that week that Sorsha had fallen quite ill after eating a meal a young maid had brought to her.

She'd lived, she was sure mostly due to the fact that Kessy hadn't tried hard enough. Sorsha had wanted to nail the spy fool to the wall right then for the misery she'd put her through, but she'd had no real evidence against her since it was the young maid who had brought up her food and said she'd gotten the food straight from the cook. Both cook and maid had been abashed and had even offered to leave…which had been denied.

But this was when the decision to keep Maesia in the Easternlands had been solidified. Using the excuse of wanting to stay with Sarah and monitor her diet with a mother's eye, Maesia was able to insinuate herself into the inner workings of the maids and kitchens the way she had back in her days of rule in the Goblin Castle. The very first day Maesia had slipped into the kitchens and started asking questions, she discovered that Kessy had taken an interest in the kitchen only recently. That was all the proof Sorsha had needed to renew her suspicions to the others.

They'd been startled for sure and had insisted that Maesia stay. She'd agreed with no argument and had sworn to keep herself as close to the kitchen as possible. During the next week, she'd kept her promise, but that had done little to help Sorsha everywhere else.

Instead of fooling with Sorsha's food, Kessy had decided to take a different route. And that was why Sorsha had to sneak around everywhere she went, because no matter what she was doing, Kessy seemed to be there. Sorsha could only guess that the girl was getting desperate. Something wasn't going the way she wanted and she was becoming far too obvious, but it didn't seem to register that way for Kessy. That was what bothered Sorsha the most.

If something really was going wrong and Kessy was thinking of betraying Kindraa…there could be some problems and her friends could very well be in as much danger as she herself was. Sorsha wasn't sure how much longer she could let Kessy go like this. If she let it go for too long, who was to say that Kessy wouldn't try something against Sarah or Jeaule?

Sorsha slipped into the room she shared with Eireach and sighed in relief as the door clicked shut behind her.

"I see you evaded the enemy yet again," she heard Eireach's smile from his spot in the armchair by the fireplace.

She slumped into the chair next to his and watched the firelight play off his face as dusk streamed through the windows, "I can almost feel her following me at times." She sighed. "It's annoying to know she can walk around without check other than Maesia in the kitchens."

"I know, but we can't tell any of the maids or anyone to watch her because it would let her know we're on to her."

"As much as I know you're right," she said as she rubbed her hands over her face irritably, "I hate it. There has to be a way to keep her in check all the time without being obvious." She rested her head in her hands and listened to the fire crackling, to Eireach turning the page of the book he was reading at the moment and felt a stab of guilt that in the over two months since he'd given her that book, she'd only read half of it.

It wasn't that she didn't like it, quite the contrary…Elizabeth was fascinating…she just never had the time to sit and read. Unfortunately…or fortunately depending on how she looked at it…she didn't have time to pick up the book because a tingling in the back of her mind let her know Morrigan was trying to get a hold of her.

She let her mind open up to the magic of the goddess and heard her voice ring through clear and true, "I didn't want to bother you, so I figured this would be safer all around." Sorsha couldn't help but chuckle, Morrigan had been worried about 'walking in on them'. That was cute. "I'm down on the training field whenever you're available."

* * *

**Sarah** rested herself back in the chair, eyes closed and her fingers linked over the mound her stomach was slowly transforming into. It felt so wonderful, that life growing within her, stretching, kicking and hiccupping as he saw fit. It felt so wonderful…most of the time, she thought miserably as he kicked her bladder and forced his mother to waddle her way awkwardly to the bathroom.

When she was able to waddle her way back from the bathroom, her back hurt and the last thing she wanted to do was sequester herself in the uncomfortable torture chair. Oh wow…those stupid hormones were starting to kick in again. After a quick apology to the chair that had been nothing but kind to her, she resigned herself to a bit of bed rest.

Jareth would approve, she thought with a grin that dipped to a scowl as the baby kicked her again. He seemed to know whenever she thought of his father…and every time she did…he kicked her. It had become an annoying game between father and son called "kick mommy". Sarah didn't know if it amused her or irritated her that their son already listened to his father so intently.

As if his unborn son had magically told him that he'd done his father proud by kicking at her insides, Jareth strolled into their rooms with a pleased smile on his face, "How's my boy doing this evening?"

"Peachy," Sarah snarked, rubbing her stomach in wide circles. The boy simply went mad when his father was near. It felt like he was trying out for a three ring circus any time he heard Jareth's voice. It was sweet, but Sarah just wished that she wasn't the circus tent at the moment. Jareth draped himself on the bed beside her and covered her hand with his own as she rubbed.

"Calm down little one, give your mother a break," he whispered to her belly. The child within her fell still.

Sarah frowned, "Why in the Underground does he listen to YOU and not me!?"

"It's a father's touch."

"Boys are supposed to listen to their mothers," she pouted, her hand resting petulantly above her unborn son.

"You don't want him to be a mother's son...or whatever human's call it," Jareth said waving an absent hand.

"Mama's boy," she muttered. "No," Sarah admitted. "I don't want him to be a whiny mama's boy, but it would be nice if he'd stop playing soccer with my innards." A knock on the door stopped her from further whining that she didn't want to do…damn hormones again.

"I'll get it, stay there." He kissed her stomach and her lips before crossing to the door and letting Eireach in.

"Sorry to bother you two."

"Never a bother Eireach, come in!" Sarah said cheerfully, leaning back against the headboard. She sighed ruefully down at her stomach. "Only seven and a half months and I feel like a whale…this kid's going to be gigantic."

"Seven months and three weeks," Jareth corrected.

Sarah chuckled and shook her head, "Leave it to you to count the days." She beckoned to Eireach and patted the bed beside her. "Get over here, it's easier for you to move than me."

"I just really needed to talk to the two of you."

"Then talk," Jareth said amiably as he sat beside his wife, a protective hand on her stomach as he always did.

"I had an idea on how we could keep a better eye on Kessy." Sarah's attention snapped to Eireach, she'd been pondering that same problem since Sorsha had been poisoned. "Go with me here, Jareth,"

"Uh oh, this doesn't sound good already," Sarah murmured.

Eireach grimaced slightly in agreement, "It's not the best time for this, but I think it would be safer for everyone involved here…not just Sorsha…if we relocated."

"Relocated?" Jareth asked quietly, his hand flexing over her belly.

"To your castle." The silence stretched after those words.

"It would be easier to keep an eye on her with all the goblins there to watch her," Sarah said, breaking the silence.

Jareth nodded, following Eireach's idea, "She wouldn't have the liberties at my castle that she does here."

"Exactly," Eireach sounded relieved that Jareth hadn't been upset at the suggestion of moving an almost 8 month Sarah across the Underground. She was rather surprised herself that he hadn't flat denied it, commenting on her 'fragile state'.

"I'd actually been thinking of the same thing."

"You…you were?" Sarah asked, stunned.

"Blix was here the other night and I spoke with him about it, he says he would be more than happy to have the goblins keep watch on the girl." His uneven gaze passed between Eireach and Sarah. "She'll never have a moment's peace again…though she won't even realize it. Goblins are wickedly good at hiding themselves."

Sarah leaned her head back against the headboard again and thought it over. It would be nice to have the baby at home, but the trip had been so hectic the first time and she hadn't even been that pregnant then. But it would be far safer to be in the Goblin Kingdom, the kingdom that hadn't fallen in millennia.

"We just have to think of a really good excuse for going there when Sarah is in this condition." Eireach seemed dumbfounded in his search for a good reason when Sarah had just thought of one.

"The Goblin Castle is a fortress," she stated simply.

Jareth smiled slowly, "That it is."

"So we go there because of the war, make Damien and Kindraa…and Kessy…think that we're running for somewhere safe before the war treaty of winter is over…" Eireach muttered out quietly to himself. Eyes bright, he looked up at them, "That's perfect. I'll see if Sorsha likes the plan after she's done talking with Morrigan."

"She's with Morrigan?"

Eireach turned to her, "Yes, she went out just a-" His words cut off as a light, bright and brilliant, turned night to day for a flash in time.

"Where the hells did that come from?" Sarah asked on a gasp as she felt Jareth's protective hand on her stomach tense.

Eireach turned to the window, murder in his eyes, "The training field."

* * *

**Morrigan** was waiting for Sorsha on the training field like she had promised, resplendent in a flowing white dress that hugged the goddess's subtle curves. The sun was setting on the mountains behind her, setting her fire gold hair alight. When Morrigan sensed Sorsha moving onto the field, she swept her arm in a wide arc, lighting the torches that circled the ring.

"It's good to see you," Sorsha said on a sigh, finding a measure of peace within the softly glowing circle of light. "Things are falling apart and-"

"And that's why I'm here," Morrigan cut her off with a grin.

Sorsha allowed herself a light laugh and scratched embarrassedly at her brow, "Of course…you always know what to do."

"Which is why I know you needed me."

"Which is creepy and soothing at the same time," Sorsha joked.

Morrigan's brow closed together, not getting the joke, "I'm creepy?"

"NO!" Sorsha laughed. "I just meant that I never really think about you watching over me." She paused awkwardly. "And when I do…."

"Oh," Morrigan said shortly, understanding blossoming over her face in a smirk. "I can guarantee you that I don't watch your private time with Eireach. Ever," she added after a short pause of her own. The two shared a much needed chuckle as the sun set behind the mountains and the fire glow took over the field. "How is he doing by the way," Morrigan asked. "How are you doing together…?" Sorsha knew the unasked question was are you still sure of your choice with him.

"You sound like a mother eager for gossip," Sorsha teased.

"I like to think that way myself."

Sorsha blushed with a happiness that baffled her, "He's good…we're good." There was a quiet crack behind Sorsha and a deep trill of laughter that had Morrigan's eyes narrowing dangerously.

"That can't be all you have to tell your dear mother…goddess…?" Kindraa came into view, frowning at Morrigan and Sorsha in turn. "Which are you playing at this time Morrigan?"

"What in the hells do you think you're doing here Kindraa?" Morrigan's voice was dangerous as a snake ready to strike. Kindraa smile slowly, an unnatural and unsettling act that seemed a chore for her to pull off.

"I'm here to talk to the girl, that's all."

Morrigan stepped between Sorsha and the demon, a fire in her eyes that matched the gleam in the red pair glaring right back at her, "I told you to leave her be."

"Oh calm down Morrigan," Kindraa chided. "I have as much right to talk to her as you do, more if you count the fact that she's part of me…or I'm a part of her." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Either way…I really think I have more claim here." Kindraa shifted, leaning to catch Sorsha's eye, "She really is a drama queen."

"I'm not an object to be claimed," Sorsha spat. "And Morrigan has valid cause for concern…demon," she finished, stepping from behind Morrigan.

"That's right," Kindraa purred darkly, a tempting hum of sinful promises. "She has to protect poor little you. It's disgusting how she's latched herself to such an inferior being as yourself," she sneered.

Sorsha bristled, "The only thing that makes me inferior is the filthy bit of YOU that's stuck inside of me!" Fire lapped at the ends of Kindraa's dark hair.

"Fae trash," she muttered before turning that unnerving smile Sorsha's way. "If you don't want it, perhaps I should just take it back?" A gleam of startlingly sharp teeth flashed in the light of the torches like the sun off a finely polished sword.

"Bring it on demon scum!" Sorsha shouted, SO tired of running and hiding from the waste of breath standing before her. She conjured her father's swords to her hands as Kindraa snarled, her long, razor sharp nails curling defensively. Sorsha was about to charge when a white scepter appeared in Morrigan's hand. It was tipped with a dazzling ruby surrounded by diamond and was emitting a shimmering, opalescent cage around Kindraa.

The demon looked less than impressed, even arrogant enough to appear irritated by the nuisance. "Oh bravo," she said blandly as she clapped her hands slowly, debasingly. "Can't even let the filth prove herself."

Sorsha's lip curled, "Let her go Morrigan."

"No."

"Let her go," she said a bit more forcefully, her knuckles turning white around the hilts of her swords.

"Yes," Kindraa hissed. "Let me go Morrigan." There was a low fire burning behind the amusement in those red eyes. Sorsha wanted to cut them from the demon's head.

"No," Morrigan insisted. She was starting to emit a low white glow. Sorsha realized how hard Kindraa must be fighting her, though the demon seemed non-pulsed. "You will not touch her."

"Mommy can't be there forever," Kindraa said sarcastically, pressing long fingers to her shimmering cage. Sorsha watched in shock as the color faltered, shifting to a wickedly bright red that she had to turn her eyes from before pulsing willfully back to it's pearly white. "I'm stronger than I used to be."

"If only you could see you own fate," Morrigan said softly.

Her hands still on the transparent wall before her, Kindraa smirked, "I can see it no more than you can, but at least I know I'm in for a step up in this world soon." Her eyes flashed fire, "VERY soon." Sorsha watched on, her swords limp at her sides, as the silent battle raged on in front of her.

She hated feeling useless, but that was exactly what she was at this moment. The battle in front of her was one that she wasn't used to fighting. Magic wasn't natural to her and the swords in her hands would have done little to help her goddess. So, helpless for the first time in her life, Sorsha watched the cage around the demon go from red to white and back again, marbling reds and whites as the women stared each other down.

"I'm not even trying. You can't fight me Kindraa."

"I don't have to beat YOU," Kindraa smirked towards Sorsha.

The light around Morrigan wavered threateningly and then burst from her with such a blinding brilliance and blasting power that it knocked Sorsha from her feet and stung her eyes at once. The flash was gone as quickly as it had come and when Sorsha was able to lever herself up, there was a crater in her training field where Kindraa had been.

Faintly, she heard the sounds of foot steps racing towards her, but her eyes were on her goddess, her mother…Morrigan. "What did you do to her?" she asked, half hoping that Morrigan would say she'd killed her, but knowing better.

"I just sent her home." She seemed so very normal, so unlike she had but a moment ago. The glow and the splendid scepter were gone and she was simply Morrigan once more. She turned a cheeky smile to Sorsha and helped her from the ground, "It just took a little more…force…since she was fighting me."

"Force…?" Sorsha asked, dusting the dirt from her rear as she laughed. "You're fixing this," she said, pointing at the hole in her field. "I won't have my men using it as an excuse not to practice."

"Naturally," she said before motioning behind Sorsha. "But I think someone needs calming down before we worry about that." Sorsha turned to see Eireach just before he pulled her into his arms.

"What the hells was that!?" He looked her up and down, reassuring himself that she was still there in one piece.

"I'm afraid that was my fault and I'm terribly sorry about your field," she added to Cyric who was bringing up the rear.

"I think the field is the least of our worries," Jareth commented as he made his own inspection of the woman he'd come to think of as the little sister he'd never had.

"I see the men-folk ran out here to my rescue," Sorsha teased, though she smiled at them. "Where did you hide your wives and how long did you waste arguing with them when they wanted to come too?"

All three men shared a smirk before Cyric turned to her, "You know them too well."

"Not too well, just…enough."

"So what happened here?" Eireach asked, his hands on her shoulders.

"Kindraa happened, in a big way." His eyes darkened to a deep bottle green at her words. "Relax, I had a goddess here."

"Kindraa had one thing right though, my dear," Morrigan said. "I won't always be here."

"It's okay, I had an idea of how we could remedy that," Eireach stated.

"I thought you might," Morrigan said with a tilted smile.

"What idea?"

"I'll tell you when we get inside," he said, rubbing arms she hadn't realized were chilled.

"You can all get going," Morrigan told them as she laid a hand on Sorsha's. "I'll be back to help in any way I can."

"You can start with the hole you made." Sorsha smiled as Morrigan waved her and fixed the small crater she'd created. "Thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

**Morrigan** teleported herself back to her tower with no little amount of guilt. She hadn't wanted to leave Sorsha yet, but Eireach and the others had indeed come up with the very plan she'd slipped into their minds. It was good to know that they were there with Sorsha and would comfort and protect her, but damned if it didn't sting a little to leave.

She hadn't lied, she thought as she slipped out of the white dress, a silly thing that was mostly for show, and pulled on a comfortable robe that caressed her skin. No, she hadn't lied…she felt mother to Sorsha in a way she'd never felt before, but damn that Kael had taken the chance from her to show it. Now she could only look in from the sidelines and pat her girl on the back now and then…maybe lend a shoulder in times she might need it.

Damn it, where was Dagda? She needed one of his massages to soothe the tensions of the night away. It had been far more difficult to send Kindraa away than she would have admitted to Sorsha. It was true, the stupid demon had gained power by siphoning it from that fool of a king. She was still no true match for Morrigan, but it did mean that she would give the Fae more of a fight than they'd been hoping for.

"Dagda!?" she called out as she entered his study. If she sounded a little irritated…she figured that she'd earned it.

"Over here, love." When Morrigan rounded the bookcases to the source of her husband's voice, her legs locked, shock coursing through her. She'd known that he would fall…of course, but this…she hadn't expected this at all.

Sitting by her fire with clothes hanging from a frame that looked nearly healthy, eyes half crazed, hair matted and shaky hands lifting a tea cup to his lips was Damien. The fire played off his face, showing bone structure that had never been seen before and a face one might even begin to call handsome, but there was nothing handsome about the pitiful creature sitting there.

He jumped when he spotted her, tea sloshing down over the beige…beige!?...jacket he wore, "OH! Morrigan, I had hoped to speak with you." His eyes darted to Dagda. "Not that your company wasn't fine, sir." Sir…? Had Damien showed respect to her husband? Oh truly, the man he'd once been had been fully broken by the demon.

Now if that was a good thing, or bad…they'd find out.

* * *

**(A/N: Another chapter and a bit of a cliffy. Hope you all don't hate me! I know that I DON'T hate the following people because they read and reviewed the last chapter for me!**

**BattleofEvermore, darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit, The Banshee's Tears and TorieSheDevil**

**Thanks a million guys, I LOVE reviews! So much love to you and I hope to hear from you again!)**


	22. The Move

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own the rights to anything you recognize from the movie and/or the book. The characters and places that you recognize from the movie and/or the book belong to their respective owners. Though, I DO own the rights to all my personal locations and personal OC's. I make no monetary profit from this story. **

**Kessy** walked sentient and silent beside the lanky goblin who'd introduced himself to her, in a raspy voice more suited to the toad he resembled, as Blix. He was escorting her through the Goblin Castle, showing her the areas that she'd be attending. She only heard every few words that came from the abnormally tall goblin as he droned on and on about the special rules and regulations unique to the Goblin Kingdom that she would have to uphold as the Easternland's Head of Maids.

Jeaule was such a simple, trusting fool, she thought as they neared the kitchens yet again. With the title the Easternland's Queen had so naively bestowed her, she'd have freedoms here she'd been scared she would lose thanks to that sniveling hybrid Queen. The kitchens flashed in her peripherals, the homey smells and soft sounds of metal pans on wooden counters filling her senses for only the briefest of moments before they passed the door.

"Why have you not shown me the kitchens," she asked a bit more irritably than she'd intended. Blix gave her a slanted look and she scrambled to cover the slip, rebuking herself for it, "I just want to fulfill my duties to the greatest extent to show my lady that her trust in me was founded." Blix's googly eyes narrowed slightly before he let it slide…much to her relief.

Well, that's noble for sure, Miss Kessandra-"

"Kessy," she paused, smiling pleasantly. "Please."

"Miss Kessy," he amended, goblin face flushing a deep green. "But as noble a mission as it might be, no one is allowed in the kitchens but the head chef and his goblin assistants." He made a dismissive gesture with long, knobby fingers that Kessy found almost grotesquely elegant. "So you need not worry yourself over them."

With an internal growl and a smile n her lips, Kessy turned to Blix, "Then I think you've given me a fine tour, Master Blix." Sickened by doing so, but wishing to rub the praise on, Kessy gave the goblin a little bow. Blix shuffled his feet and lowered his gaze…goblins really were too easy.

"It's just Blix, miss."

"Blix, then." After another sweet smile, she turned and headed to the room she'd been 'issued'. She sneered to herself as she walked through the halls. It was too happy here, too peaceful. At least the castle in Easternland had weathered its share of pain and suffering…its stain not yet washed clean by the bubbly new sovereigns. But this place, she thought with a small quiver, this place was far too homey.

She turned a bitter thought to the Goblin Kingdom's Queens, past and present. It was their fault she had been sent here. Their fault that she'd been sent ahead of them with the ludicrous title of Easternland's Head of Maids that made the help here stare at her with judging eyes. What the hells did that stupid title do for her main purpose here in the Goblin Castle?

The place was aptly named, she sneered as two goblins, no taller than her knee, shuffled past her with goofy grins and arms laden with dirty dishes from the lunch service. It meant little to Kessy that no one knew of her plans, her desires. All that she knew was they'd made things very hard on her indeed with all these little inbred decedents of what looked like frogs and rats running around?

Kessy thought of Sarah, comfortably tucked into her posh little carriage as they headed back to her dear home to have the 'precious little one'. Pathetic, whining hybrid Fae…let alone Queen of all the Goblin Kingdom. It meant little to Kessy that Sarah had run the Labyrinth and conquered it. What a trivial thing. Any human with half a brain could have managed it with the help she'd received. Who cared that no human ever HAD? Certainly not Kessy.

It just goaded Kessy's anger that even as she walked the hallways, nobles and goblins mixing company in a perversion of class rankings, Morrigan HERSELF was escorting the two sets of royals, the bitch general…and Eireach…to the Goblin Castle. The goddess had decided to do so for reasons that had not made it to Kessy's hearing, but she was sure it had something to do with Kindraa. What else would convince the great and fearsome Goddess of War to escort her favorite Fae to safety?

Kessy snorted derisively, like that would stop Kindraa if she really wanted to cause some trouble. She sincerely hoped that it wouldn't…as long as she didn't touch Eireach. Eireach was hers.

**Sarah** sighed once more, a long and suffering not, as she let her chin fall to her balled fist. Strained and tired eyes stared defiantly out of the carriage window into the bright, spring morning. She knew that she'd approved heartily of the move and she still did, but being caged in the stupid carriage and being forced to watch her friends chuckling with each other on horseback did nothing to improve her rapidly souring mood.

She could feel Jareth's careful gaze on her and bristled slightly. It was like he was simply WAITING for her to blow up. Her mind was in no mood to justify that he had every right to be doing just that since she was indeed a mere ticking time bomb of irritation at the moment. No, she focused on the fact that he'd insisted on riding with her since the other's, and Morrigan herself, had the outside of the carriage protected. So he'd deigned to spend the trip in the carriage with her…the fat, useless cow.

Her hand flitted to the mound of her belly and she head her husband snicker under his breath. Sarah turned narrowed, questioning eyes to a husband who looked far more amused than he should have, "Do you have something to say, dear?" she asked with a silky sweetness that didn't fool Jareth for a moment.

"You look like you want to be out there and I was just picturing you on a horse right now." His grin irked her and she tried folding her arms in a huff, but merely succeeded fumbling over her whale belly…a clumsy move that had tears threatening.

"Eleanor of Aquitaine rode into BATTLE pregnant," she muttered darkly to no one in particular. It was more to keep the tears from slipping than to convince anyone of…well…anything.

"Who?" Jareth asked with lowered brows.

"A human," Sarah sighed, realizing too late that Jareth wouldn't even know who the hells she was talking about.

"Ah," he said simply, pausing to assess her. "In that case, if a human did it…think what a sight you'd make, love." The teasing endearment snapped her out of the funk she'd slipped into yet again.

The tears that had threatened a moment ago came back with a vengeance, "I don't know how you put up with me anymore." Sarah bit her lip, curing hormones for the millionth time and willing the stupid tears back.

"You're a delight to me, whatever your mood."

His sincerity stung her already wounded pride, she knew she was a pest to deal with right now, "Don't be so damn sweet." Her chide slipped by him and out into the sun dappled forest outside the window. "I'm a terribly moody pregnant woman."

"No more so than any other pregnant woman in history…especially a Fae woman." His eyes went wide and frightened…apparently, Fae women were a bit more spectacular in their mood swings. It must have something to do with the fact that their magic was being drained as well as their will to LIVE as a fat whale.

"You're annoyingly upbeat today," she said, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips despite her.

Jareth struggled with a grin of his own, "Someone has to counter your incessant hormones."

"If I didn't know you were kidding, I'd hex you." They shared a laugh as they felt the carriage slow.

Morrigan trotted her horse to Sarah's window, "Were setting camp here for the night."

"Here?" Jareth asked, looking at the sky. "But the sun isn't setting yet."

"I know, but I've got a feeling about tonight and I'd rather camp be set and wards up before light falls."

Sarah worried her lower lip and placed a protective hand over her midsection, "A bad feeling, Morrigan?" The goddess turned vivid green eyes on her.

"Not bad, no…I just want to be sure." Knowing that Morrigan was there to protect them gave Sarah a measure of peace she wouldn't have had if the fiery haired goddess had been absent from their traveling party.

So the tents were set up as the sun traveled its way across the sky, Morrigan setting the wards that would fend off any who wished us ill. Horses were secured in a nearby clearing and the carriage was stowed next to the green and silver tent that was meant for Sarah and Jareth. The genial tones of friends laughing together by the fires that were starting were Sarah's background music as she was settled into her tent.

The sun was dipping low in the sky and the long shadows cast playfully over the campground and mixed with the dancing light of the newborn fires. When the sun dipped behind the mountains in the distance, her friends came to her, finally relieved of their individual duties. Dinner would be served to them soon. It was something they'd promised poor Sarah during the trip, that no matter how long they traveled separately during the day, they'd always gather for dinner.

It made her feel bad again for her temper in the carriage that day. She had amazing friends who cared more for her than her current hormonal shifts gave them credit for. Her stomach rumbled and the baby kicked…apparently he was hungry. As they settled around the makeshift table, Sarah noticed that Cyric looked more troubled than the rest of her friends.

"Something bothering you, Cyric?"

Jeaule grinned teasingly and rolled her eyes, "He doesn't like the fact that we sent Kessy ahead of us."

"I didn't like the title…" Cyric amended as the food was brought in, an array of finger foods for them to peck at. "Now she'll have time to get comfortable before we get there, plant some seeds." Eireach choked on the wine he was sipping.

"You make her sound like a gardener," he teased, wiping the red wine from his chin.

Sorsha chuckled, but elbowed him in the side, "Shut up, Eireach." She turned to Cyric, who was brooding into his own glass. "I can understand your concerns, but with the goblins there and Blix on babysitting duty…I really think she'll be more annoyed than annoying."

Jareth smirked, popping one of the many little petit fours into his mouth before handing Sarah a plate of them, "My goblins won't give her a moment's rest. That's the joy of the," he began as he watched her balance the plate on her belly. "…they can know everything because they won't tip her off."

"Because they're always around anyways," Morrigan quipped as she slipped into the tent."

"Second only to the gods," Eireach said, lifting his glass to her.

"Only," she agreed with a sly smile.

"Giving Kessy the leash of that title Jeaule came up with…brilliant by the way…" Sarah praised her friend. "…she won't get worried that anyone is onto her."

Jeaule smirked into her glass, "Though she probably thinks that I'm the stupidest thing to happen to royalty in millennia."

"Who cares what that traitor thinks? Let the fool think whatever she wants to," Sorsha sneered and the rest of them raised their glasses in agreement. "Let her think that we trust her with that useless title."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, her stomach finally full and settled enough to let her think clearly. "Let her get comfortable in our castle if it suits her." Sarah's smile was wicked and she knew it, "It will only make the look in her face all the sweeter when she realizes how finely she was played."

They finished their meal without further talk of Kessy. No one wanted to discuss her for long lest their digestion be corrupted by the sheer irritation she brought out in all of them. Sarah knew the girl had done well and hidden herself right in front of their noses. It was a slap to them that it was able to happen again and quite a lesson to know it had. They couldn't let themselves assume anything of anyone and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

"I'd better go check on my men," Sorsha said on a yawn when everyone was comfortably satiated. "Make sure they haven't gotten wasted on the wine."

"Your men know better," Morrigan said softly, no trace of sleepiness in her voice or her eyes. Sarah wondered if the gods ever slept. Perhaps they didn't. It would be easier to keep your eyes on the world if you didn't. "But if you are going to check on them, I'd like it if you took Eireach with you."

Sorsha sighed dramatically, sending her eyes heaven-ward, "I don't need a babysitter, Morrigan."

"Regardless, Kindraa might still try something and I'd rather you not be alone."

"You seem to forget the wards you set up."

Morrigan's lips thinned, "You seem to forget she might have a pass through those wards because of you being inside of them." That cowed Sorsha, who offered her apologies and took Eireach by the hand as she slipped from the tent.

"Do you really think Kindraa might be able to get past the wards?" Sarah asked before the others.

"To be honest…I don't know." The goddess looked tired then, so very tired. "I've never had to deal with a situation quite like this and I don't know the dynamics of it."

Jeaule turned worried eyes to the tent's door, "Will she be okay?"

The goddess sighed and turned her gaze the same, "I'll do everything within my power to make sure she is."

"**You** don't HAVE to baby sit me," Sorsha said, though she didn't let go of Eireach's hand. She knew she didn't have to play strong around him, but Morrigan's words had unnerved her more than she'd like to admit.

"I like babysitting you though," he answered with a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"There are plenty of guys around if you want to-"

"I'll stay here, thanks though." The relief that coursed through her was sobering.

"Why?" she asked, not quite ready to give into the relief and just let it be.

"Because I enjoy being around you…when you aren't putting on an act for me," he added with a grin. "And Morrigan merely gave me an excuse."

"Yeah, well-" Something tingled at the edge of her senses and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "Oh…shit."

"What?"

"She's here."

"She…?" It didn't take Eireach long to catch on to her meaning though. "Where?" he asked, instantly on the defensive.

"She's not inside the wards."

"Then she can't get in," he said positively. Sorsha didn't answer, merely headed towards the feeling. "Where the hells do you think you're going?"

"Either come with me or tattle to Morrigan and leave me all alone," she said as the shadows of the forest swallowed her.

Eireach looked after her, desperately weighing his choices. "Damn it," he muttered as he plunged into the woods after her.

"I see you decided not to be a Fae Scout."

"You better be right about this," he whispered, moving next to her and ignoring the good-natured dig.

Sorsha barely felt his body heat as they pushed through the forest. She knew that Morrigan would be pissed if she found out that she was doing this, but there was something about the call…something that almost had a white flag waving behind her eyes. Trusting that thought wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done in her life, but there was no way she was going to cower in her tent from it either.

"I knew you'd come," she heard Kindraa hiss beyond the maze of trees in front of them. The feeling of her was strong, she wasn't far off, Sorsha could almost smell her sulfurous scents over the pine of the woods surrounding her. So close, she thought as she pushed a low hanging branch out of her way in her haste to reach the demon that seemed to be stalking her now.

Sorsha felt Eireach's hand on her arm, "Wait." His eyes were a serious, bottle green in the darkness and they were trained on her now. "Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as anything else in my life." She saw his eyes flit to the healed wound on her leg and knew that he remembered her gut instinct about Kessy. The grip on her arm loosened without her having to pull from his grip. "I'm right next to you…all the way."

Beside herself, Sorsha kissed him softly, "Damn well better be." With a smile, they both stepped from the woods and towards the end of Morrigan's wards. On the other side of the opalescent bubble Morrigan had encased them in stood Kindraa, in full royal attire, a glittering crown of fire rubies circling her head. The rising moon shimmered in the gems, white fire.

When the two simply stared at her, dumbstruck, she sneered and turned a circle, "How do I look?" Lengthy fingers skimmed over the crimson velvet gown like a long missed lover. "I dare say it looks quite spectacular on me."

"It looks tacky," Sorsha snarled.

Kindraa pouted on the other side of the wards, "Now that's not nice at all, you didn't even ask me how I got it."

"I wouldn't give you the pleasure."

"Damien and I had a falling out," she explained, ignoring the fact that Sorsha hadn't asked.

"You're talking like I care…." Sorsha felt Eireach's hand again and felt her anger balance.

"I'm surprised your dear Morrigan told you nothing about it," Kindraa continued, unperturbed, as she held her hand at arms length to check her nails.

It took Sorsha off guard, which she was sure had been the demon's intention, "Told me about what?"

Kindraa looked surprised before she burst out into laughter, "Oh my, she really didn't tell you!"

"Drop the act demon." It was Eireach's first comment, but the dark tone got his point across.

"We aren't going to play nice then?" Kindraa asked with narrowed eyes. When Sorsha and Eireach shook their heads, flames licked at fingertips Kindraa was careful to keep from her dress. "Fine, I just came to give you something to think about anyways."

"Come over and tell me then," Sorsha called out, gesturing to the area on her side of the wards.

"I like it where I am," Kindraa said with a trace of the playful tone she'd affected earlier.

Sorsha snorted, "I knew you couldn't get over here."

"I never said that," the demon purred, her eyes glowing red in the darkness.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Sorsha didn't care that she was tempting fate, if Kindraa put one foot over the wards, Morrigan would know and would be here in moment.

"I think it's more fun to leave you wondering if I AM indeed able to cross this little barrier Morrigan has set up."

"Easy way out," Eireach muttered.

Kindraa fluttered her long fingers, "Think as you wish…you have served your purpose."

"What purpose?" Sorsha asked, sickness creeping into her belly.

"I think you know…" Kindraa said softly, her mouth spreading into a Cheshire Cat smile too wide for her face. Teeth too sharp, too ferocious, glinted in that frightening smile.

"You lie," Sorsha said, without as much passion to back her words as she would have liked. Her legs were suddenly too heavy, her hands shook. "You lie," she repeated feebly.

Kindraa merely shrugged, "Believe what you wish."

"She loves me, demon." The assurance in his voice cut at Sorsha. She'd been so sure of that herself till but a moment ago. "You love me," he said again, taking her hand.

The demon's laughter rang mockingly in her ear, "Do tell Morrigan I said hello?"

"Go to hell," Eireach said, turning them away from the demon and heading back to the camp. They heard the demon call out behind them through her laughter.

"I wish I could!"

Eireach remained silent as they walked back to the camp, but as the fire glows began to light their way he turned to her, "I want you to know I don't believe her."

Her eyes traveled to his slowly and her fingers traced his features, "I do love you." She paused trying to find the words. "In my gut…I know that she's just trying to distract me and she did a damn good job of it for about five minutes." His laughter warmed her more than the fires they were nearing. "No matter what happens, believe that…I do love you."

"I will," he promised, kissing her hand. A chorus of cat calls erupted around them: 'hot stuff!' 'get a room!' and simple 'WOOOoooO's' followed them as they made their way through the soldiers.

"Oh shut up, all of you," Sorsha chuckled as they broke free. "I have a goddess to talk to." Eireach kissed her before she went looking for the goddess and promised to wait up for her in their tent. Morrigan was resting by the larger central fire and her smile faded when she saw the look on Sorsha's face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you…?"

"I just spoke with Kindraa," Sorsha was trying to remain calm, but it hurt that this woman, goddess or no, that she considered a mother, had kept something from her. "She was sporting some pretty fancy new jewelry."

Morrigan's face went stony, "She was here?"

"She wouldn't step inside the wards, but I'm not sure that's because she CAN'T." They'd speak of that later, but Sorsha had another agenda at the moment. "What the hells happened, Morrigan?"

"Damien ran off and forfeited his throne." Morrigan had said it simply and succinctly, getting it over with like pulling off a band-aid.

Sorsha slumped to the ground by the fire, "So now she has even more power than before. The army isn't just listening to her because they were told…we could have negotiated with that. Now they listen to her because they have to…" She stopped, staring into the fire, that piece of her clawing at the walls of it's cage, promising to help if only she let it free. She stifled it. "What are we going to do?"

Morrigan sat down next to her, far more gracefully, "Exactly what we ARE doing…heading to the most fortified place in all of the Underground. No one has taken the Goblin Kingdom since Jareth's family has ruled there and I don't see that changing any time soon."

"She tried to make me hate you tonight," Sorsha said quietly into the flames.

Morrigan lowered her gaze, "I know…I hope she didn't succeed."

Sorsha leaned and nudged Morrigan's arm, "You know I don't hold stock in the words of a demon."

"Thank the gods."

"Thank YOU," Sorsha said, laughing.

"You face Jareth's troops tomorrow."

That sobering comment pulled Sorsha's face into a grimace, "I had been avoiding thinking about that."

"It has to happen some time."

"I know, but I'm just nervous I guess." She was nervous all right, nervous that they'd boo her at best and stone her at worst.

"If they have any sense, they won't judge you based on his actions."

Sorsha just stared into the fire, "We'll see, won't we?"

**(A/N: So glad I got this chapter out. I'm sorry it's been so hit and miss lately with hitting the deadlines, but summer is a fickle time of year. I won't be updating next Saturday as I will be out of state and won't have access to a computer, but I promise one when I get home. Hope you're all having a super duper summer and that the rest of the sunny day's go well. The readers who made my days sunny last chapter by reviewing were:**

**darklady26, Kerichi, notwritten, phantome101, roguegambit and The Banshee's Tears**

**Thanks again guys and much love!)**


End file.
